Garbage day

In a land or oranges,

I am faithful to apples.

Elsa Gidlow

I realize that, at this point, I am probably–definitely–talking to myself. That is okay. Not an unfamiliar feeling.

The most dysfunctional lesson I’ve been taught is that only the people who tell me what an arrogant narcissistic child I am actually care about me. If one actually internalizes this, it becomes quite masochistic. So perhaps I’ve been fishing. And perhaps even being called names is better than absolutely nothing. However, make no mistake about it, those who insisted they were being personal by unveiling long lists of judgments were always the least likely to listen in return. Instead, they insisted that their insults made them superior to those around them.

While it may be important to acknowledge that I have no idea what judgments are running through somebody else’s head, the point is to be okay in the uncertainty, for me. I have enough trouble getting the garbage to the curb on time whilst living with my own internal insults. I don’t need yours.

We need not label each other to be honest, we merely have to face up to the fact that we don’t always get the garbage out and sometimes we throw away more than we should or hold on to more than we ought to have.

I will stop fighting for my input to be valued at The Haven when there are places where I need not fight. But I think that I do have valuable input, not because I am arrogant but because I am a natural observer. And I find the leading/following dichotomy problematic for more reasons than that. It is not a dichotomy made for equals. It is another system of labeling.

Meet me at the place where we can be equals. I will not follow you and I do not want for you to follow me. We can throw out our trash together. That is all I ask for. And I may not get it from those who I first sought out but I have gained far more than I’ve lost over this past year.

In sum, I didn’t throw out too much but I threw out a lot.

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