Blog
Thoughts, reflections, and letters for people at a crossroads in work and life.
Why Don’t I Feel Good Enough
I felt my rage.
We were halfway through our walk, and there it was — my breath gone, my muscles pulled tight.
I am thinking: Why am I still friends with this person?
By the time we hug goodbye, I am already rehearsing the call to my partner. Everything my friend said. How superior she is. How ungrateful. I have the whole story ready, wrapped tight and righteous.
And then something stops me.
She is my mirror.
Why Do I Resent The People I love
I already knew he would need to stay.
His apartment has too many stairs. The dog had just had surgery. There was no other option. And I knew it before he asked.
That first morning, I walked into what used to be my guest room and stopped.
A mattress on the floor. A large dog bed in the center of the room, still stained from the surgery. My kitchen counter — the one I keep clear, the one that is mine — is covered in cups, medications, pill bottles, dog food, and an empty cookie container. My own dog barking behind a closed door, trying not to disturb the one recovering.
I stood there and felt it land.
Why Do I Feel Guilty Saying No to Someone I Love
About two years ago, I was doing laundry when my daughter came in, upset.
A piece of clothing had gone into the dryer that wasn't supposed to. She wanted me to look at each piece before putting it in to check the requirements for every item.
I noticed my automatic reaction immediately. Are you kidding me? What a stupid idea. The reaction was real. And I noticed it. I did not act on it.
Instead, I told her that if that was her request, I would no longer do her laundry.
That did not go over well.
It Wasn’t Complicated After All
My son is spending Christmas away for the first time.
Twenty-nine years of shared rituals, and now a quiet change.
I didn’t have an issue with him going. That part felt clean.
What hurt was something else.
I wasn’t held in mind.
Plans were made — with friends, with travel, with what came next — and somehow I wasn’t part of the orientation. When dates were offered later, they landed flat. January 25 didn’t feel like a celebration. It felt like a placeholder.
The meaning that came immediately was familiar:
I don’t matter. I’m not a priority.