I have taken some serious offense to the phrase,

must be nice

This is my fragility, of course.

my guilt in full effect

I am white and in strong physical shape. I am able-bodied and I come from a wealthy family and live in a town teeming with money. I am straight-passing and tall and for reasons entirely out of my control and entirely to my benefit, I am comfortable in this world seemingly built for me.

must be nice

I believe I told you once already about the faceless English professor who, during my Covid semester in college graded one of my papers (one that I thought I absolutely crushed) with the entirely fair grade of less than perfect (to my dismay) because I had argued that happiness is a choice.

I’m really hoping that my memory has failed me here, that I did not actually adopt this terribly one-dimensional and senseless sentence as a worthy thesis

happiness is a choice …?

I’m also not convinced that she “took points away” as much I am convinced she made it a point to say,

actually

we don’t all start in the same position

and so we don’t all have a fair shot at contentment

–

And so maybe it’s just true that all the time, people cancel meetings. Maybe surely everyone will wake up some days and the person who was supposed to be at the apartment at 10am does not show until 11:30am. And the man who said he’d be back to fix the leak in the ceiling won’t come back. And maybe he has good reason — just as good as the rest of us, anyway — and maybe people will waste my time no matter where I go or what I do. And some people will take me seriously and look me in the eyes and others will not be able to stare away from my chest, braless.

Not everything has purpose and meaning the way I want it to.

I just visited Pittsburgh to see my childhood best friend and we were walking down the sidewalk, near a park, and these two men asked if they could ask us a question and I said,

yes!

of course

and the one asked about purpose and he gave me a framework I’ve never before had and he said

“If you think about what you’re good at, what you’re passionate about, and what the world needs, somewhere at the intersection of those three lies your purpose. Your mission. Your why.”

And I’m always starved for “supposed to’s,” desperate for guidance, a little bit lost a lot of the time so I have thought about this triangle of purpose quite a bit

And the guilt feels huge there.

at the intersection of three questions I don’t have answers to

the guilt is worse knowing that

not everyone has had the opportunity to do the things I have done.

Most

actually

have not had the opportunities I have had and wow, it

must be nice

they taunt

I spend far too many of my hours reminding myself that I offer something unique to my workplace. That the work that I do is important. Because it will kill me if it’s not. And I will have to mourn all that I thought was true of my rose-colored world and sometimes it’s all too much at once! All the things I have to let die! The lies!

Who let me believe that it was all so meaningful and purposeful?!

It’s just not a slow killing is all I’m saying — it’s so abrupt that my house of delusion has started to cave in, is all. That’s all. I just need it to happen slower. I’m not a

rip the band-aid off

kind of woman. I’m sensitive. I need to be held.

It is true that I work for my mother and I call her by her first name in the office and I don’t lead with “my mom,” but rather “my boss.” And I am not sure where the shame comes from

actually

yes I do of course I do

I sat across from a therapist once and she held out her two hands far, far from one another and she told me,

“As your idea of what you thought you’d do…”

and she shook her one fist,

“…and the reality of what you are doing…”

her other fist wiggled,

“grow further and further apart, shame permeates the space in the middle.”

(I don’t think she used the word permeates but wouldn’t that have been impressive?)

Is reality the antidote to shame? Truth? Acceptance? Delusion?

I’m thinking maybe that shame can drive the two, my expectation of myself and my reality, further and further away. Like, maybe it’s not just a byproduct of misalignment but also a force in and of itself. The shame is maybe clouding my vision and making me be terribly, awfully rude to myself but the truth is

I want to connect with people who work hard. I know that I can work hard because I have worked hard and continue to work hard. And the perception I fear I cannot hold is that, doing what I do for work now means that I have chosen easy.

But then I must ask,

Why am I so afraid of easy?

Isn’t easy… great?

Isn’t that was TSA pre-check is?

Isn’t that was fast food is?

Amazon prime?

First class?

Driving a nice car? Hiring someone else to do it for you? Target and Walmart and Costco — anywhere that has everything you need in just one place? Anything convenient? All of the optimized and fast systems being developed all around me at all times?

What is it about ease that makes me feel so guilty?

Must be nice

means

Must be easy

and… well… I feel I have something to prove. And I’ll never impress the people I most respect if all I ever choose is

easy.

Until You Know Better

Spend just a moment on what was not said, for the negative space holds truth, too

Write it down

TOUGH LOVE??!!! RIP THE BAND-AID OFF???!!!

But, like, don’t we all just need a fucking break?

Great Artists Steal

It’s what’s in the work, Joseph Conrad taught me.

Take It or Leave It

An affirmation: I am allowed to fail. Most likely, no one will care.