the point isn’t getting my wish (though cool things have emerged from wishing), it’s learning about my relationship with wanting, accessing the qualities…
wanting can be hard, it is easy to feel conflicted about it, and the reasons for that make this a surprisingly subversive practice…
this is the 326th consecutive week of wishing, come play!
the things we don’t know yet…
when I was in high school in michigan
I had the tremendous good fortune to study american history
with a young brand-new teacher who was intense and passionate
not just about history
but about systematically undoing
all the bullshit we’d been imbibing before we got to her
she convinced the school to acquire college textbooks for us
and we learned the things that don’t usually get learned
and unlearned the rest
for example we learned
that the “founding fathers”
were not good people so much as they were interesting
we learned about the mechanics and horrors of the slave trade
and how we betrayed and trampled the native american populations
and the ongoing aftermath of both of these that is swept under all the rugs
the awful sad stories of internment camps in the second world war
xenophobia, manifest destiny, imperialism,
the hilarious myth of american exceptionalism
the studious ignoring of desperate cries for help
the unwanted and sometimes insidious intervening
she taught us to be wonderfully skeptical, curious always
and she taught that you can absolutely love the place you inhabit
without being docile, or agreeing to its acquired mythology,
and you can expect better, and agitate for better
(thank you for this treasure)
and still there is so much we didn’t learn that year
the textile mills in massachusetts
and the young women who worked impossibly hard hours there — 5am-7pm
a 73 hour work week operating heavy machinery
the worker’s strikes and the fight for labor reform
the fascinating life of Emma Goldman (“the most dangerous woman in America!”)
and other strong outspoken women who were agitators and troublemakers
what the suffragettes went through —
imprisoned, mishandled, force fed through tubes,
labeled as traitors, for wanting equal rights: to vote
and to do things as shocking as wear pants
the fire at the triangle shirtwaist factory
women workers (immigrants: jews and italians) jumping to their deaths
their employers kept the doors to the stairways locked
out of fear that god forbid someone might take a break
during her nine hour daily shift
this is a history of intense oppression of workers
and also a history of people — my people — taking a powerful stand towards change
and we never talked about any of it
I’m thinking about this in several contexts right now
1) today is Day 209 of Shmita
I’ve been working non-stop for twenty four years — since I was fourteen,
and now I’ve had the gift of two hundred and nine glorious days
of Not-Work, immersed in this experiment of letting my fields be fallow,
and the main thing I’ve learned is that The Game Is Rigged:
even in our modern convenience-filled world
and even with the plentiful magic beans I’ve been granted,
still, even graced with so many advantages,
and this immense treasure of time off from my job/s,
just the work of day-to-day life
— acquiring food, preparing food, cleaning up, laundry, decision-making —
just this is already a full-time job,
and that’s the best days,
the ones with no chronic pain or unexpected life stuff
2) the cult of too much
for years when asked what I do for a living, my answer was:
but really everyone I know, the self-employed included,
- does too much
- works too hard
- puts themselves last
- pays themselves last
- puts up with unreasonable conditions/expectations and other unsovereign bullshit (both from clients/bosses and from themselves)
3) we are terrible at setting expectations of what is enough
hell, even people who are much better-compensated than we are
also have this same problem
of not setting clear, sovereign expectations
for what is fair labor, and instead internalize this stress-shame-pain cycle,
and companies never revise their expectations
4) the problem of “women’s” work
because women’s work is invisible, unvalued, unappreciated
and we know this
and still collectively forget it each day
and we are told by productivity-guru-time-management-experts
that we all have the same twenty four hours in a day
and the usual bullshit
said more often than not, I think, by men who
forget they have someone at home quietly doing the dishes
and picking up their socks,
someone who is never going to say
YOU KNOW WHAT, ENOUGH, THE GAME IS RIGGED
do you know how my business started?
ten years ago I started this site, and a parallel site
one was for working on our stuff:
so that we could inhabit and embody our internal worlds, and make them
places of peacefulness
the other was the non-profit side of this, for going out into the world
and bringing our self-fluency to projects
that could heal the world
because, as far as I was concerned, there is an intimate connection
between tending to, mending and healing ourselves (and our selves)
and glowing healing-mending into the world
never got to that part
it was always in my thoughts,
but the game is rigged, and there wasn’t time for it
and also I noticed that the only time there was pushback
on this blog was when I talked social justice
so I let it go
man, you should have seen the reactiveness and defensiveness
when I dared to point out that amazon is an exploitative dangerous company
and people thought it was gross when I talked about menstrual cups
which is funny, because
you know what’s actually gross?
- that we have been socialized and brainwashed to think that bodies which come with uteri and ovaries are “gross”, and to not discuss how they function
- oh, right, the 20 billion pads, tampons and applicators dumped in the landfill each year just in North America
- or that each menstruating person who doesn’t use a cup, cloth pads and/or Thinx, will be responsible for 125 to 150kg of disposable menstrual products put in the earth in their lifetime
- that tampons and pads are hugely toxic and harmful to the bodies of the people who use them, and the companies who make them know this and don’t care
that’s what’s gross
that, and the fact that me-then learned to stop writing about
these things I care about tremendously
because it seemed more important then to be able to reach people
and distribute tools and techniques and qualities for
healing and self-fluency and Safety First,
than to alienate people through saying things they weren’t ready to hear
but I’m done caring about that now
my beautiful lover, who, for reasons beyond my comprehension
is dead-set (yes, that is the word)
on working himself to death
had just came back from an incredibly stressful work weekend
five hours away
this was his weekend, which followed a week of impossibly hard work days:
drive five hours
work non-stop and all night in unbelievably tense conditions
without food or access to food
or taking a break
sleeping just a little, and then five hours back
he didn’t take the day off yesterday to recover
instead he worked from 7am-7pm
and then drove to his other client to…you’ll never guess…
do some more work
there won’t be time for you unless you take it
he: how is it that I’ve been going all day and still have work to do?
me: probably related to the reason you didn’t say “hey I worked a hundred hours this weekend so I’m taking my weekend now”? though also because The Game Is Rigged
me: there won’t be time for you unless you take it
he: but there’s always more work
me: exactly, and it’s kind of nuts that after a ten day work week, you’d put in thirteen hours today, and you’re still going — you might want to call your union rep
that was a joke but it’s no joke
(like me, he runs his own tiny company so there is no rep)
(but really, we should all be our own union reps)
(and consult with these internal reps in WUSIT situations and also all the time)
(because good lord, the conditions we agree to)
(and only this week after TWO DECADES of this nightmare of being on-call 24-hours a day did he establish overtime rates)
what’s the solution?
I don’t know
I only have small clues
I can tell you that when I am off social media
the quality of my life/time is better for me
but even when I am completely off social media
the game is still rigged and I am still busy
I can tell you that when my lover and I lived in a nine foot camper plus bed,
that was a very human-sized space, as he would say
and it made so many things very simple
but even a tiny space still needs to be swept all the time
it’s amazing how much dirt and mess accumulates
when life is concentrated in one place
I know I need to get back to rooting and rootedness
back to my roots
breathe down to the root
so there is a history here
a history of agitation, advocacy, creative activism,
real social justice, stirring up the pot,
sticking it to the man, whatever you want to call it
I was born into a line that isn’t too far off from
Emma Goldman levels of dissent and trouble-making
russian-jewish rabble-rousers? that’s my father’s father’s whole family
strong women who said fuck-off to the patriarchy:
that’s my hungarian paternal grandmother who ran away at seventeen
took off for british palestine where she consorted with gun runners and did
wild impossible things in dangerous exciting times
it is time for protesting
it is time for pointing out over and over again
that The Game Is Rigged
it is time for internal decolonizing of all the acquired
external rules and assumptions and bullshits
it is time to reclaim internal space, reclaim force fields
to say no
take time back
claim space and time
marching in the streets
of my own kingdom
unapologetically, that is the key
My history, my roots
I want the firm rooted knowing that justice and freedom
in all things are important, and that I can speak truth
from steady source
I am really tired of everyone apologizing,
even the most flagrantly unapologetic women I know
apologize for things that ought not be apologized for
placating and reassuring are a subset of apologizing
my god, even Amanda Palmer feels the need to reassure
a very rude shoe-thrower
it’s never okay to let your monsters write someone a letter —
that no, she isn’t crowd-funding her baby
though, really, why shouldn’t she
the question may be rhetorical but that doesn’t mean it’s not important:
why the hell can’t she crowd-fund a baby?
(seriously, if anyone could do it, Amanda could)
(and babies, last I heard, are quite expensive and time-consuming)
it takes a village — what if we started asking for a village?!
and even Clementine Ford who is so justifiably proud of being
unapologetic that she straight up tells you
all the things she won’t apologize for
still feels the need to explain about her patreon:
“this isn’t an account to fund or support my lifestyle”
even though, again, what would be wrong with that
I mean, The Game Is Rigged
why not allow people to help with your life
so you can do your mission
I’ve read lots of patreon pages and have yet to see
men hasten to reassure people that they aren’t
just trying to get money for life through providing value
because men in general haven’t been as socialized to the same extent to think that’s shameful
I’m not saying men have it easy
(look, now I’m apologizing!)
see for example the case of my lover who couldn’t tell his clients
that he does in fact need to be paid more when they wake him up at 4am
we all get screwed by The Game Is Rigged
we all have to figure out our own way to subvert it
here’s what I want
and this is for me, you can wish (and do) what you like
- taking — taking — time for me, every chance I get and then some
- being fiercely unapologetic about everything I do to take care of me
- no more supporting the system, I get that I can’t exit the system but I’m done giving money to Our Corporate Overlords and companies engaging in unethical practices (and yes, I get that this is most companies, and I get that figuring out who to trust requires the immense magic beans of time to research), if each dollar is a vote, I am going to vote louder
- living smaller
- choosing and valuing the qualities and superpowers of BEAUTY and COMFORT, and their healing magic
anything else about this?
I just want to be clear
(because this is the internet and people twist words and meanings)
that I am not in any way comparing the injustices of the industrial revolution
to how we work too hard and too much today
this is not about comparison
this is about calling in the spirits, invoking the qualities and superpowers
of Sovereignty, Integrity, personal power: rebelliousness and rabble-rousing
what am I noticing about my wish?
like all good wishes, this is a wish about freedom
and about presence:
fully inhabiting and occupying this life and this body, claiming space:
I AM HERE
orange table, amber bottle of a magical tincture, fuzzy blanket, quiet music, I am here
superpower of yes to my yes, no to my no.
last month was stand in my strength more, and october (on the Fluent Self calendar) is be bold more
with the superpower of yes to my yes, no to my no
nothing is more important than this
this is how I want to live in all things
even when it scares me
last week’s wishes
aka delicious space…
that was the best wish I have ever wished, and it
was just the tip of an enormous wishberg
of internal information, desires, memories, associations
endless nooks and crannies to explore
as if just naming a wish
is invoking a magnificent library
that holds anything and everything
I could possibly know or wonder about the topic of my wish
invitation: come play with me…
you are invited to share many !!!!!! about what is here,
or share anything sparked for you while reading
deposit wishes, gwishes, superpowers, qualities, ingredients, intel, possibly in code
safe space for creative exploration asks us to let go of care-taking and advice-giving
wishes are never late because whenever you wish is the right time for wishing
here’s how we meet each other’s wishes: oh, wow what beautiful wishes
I have only one thing to say: !!!!!!!
Okay, I have one other thing to say, and forgive me if it sounds patronizing or (more likely) too nineties: you go girl!
Oh my god.
You have an amazing clarity.
You make the impossible seem achievable.
I love this. I love you.
I too, am here.
Infinite variation. Perfectly human.
My superpower today is “this pleases me”.
And so it does.
Such beautiful wishes. May it be so.
1 yr out of h.s., I began working (as close to full time as I could get), and then I worked as much as I could for 25 years. Including FT while I attended college PT.
If I wasn’t working, per how my parents raised me – I felt I didn’t deserve to exist.
And then we moved to MD. I got laid off from my 1st job here. Unemployment (1st time). 2nd job – got fired. Couldn’t find anything else for well over a year. Stopped looking. Existential crisis for the next 4 yrs.
Eventually realized I’m autistic, which is a disability. I’m not sure I can ever work for pay again. So… who am I? Can I deserve existing? What do I fill my time with that can be meaningful *to me*?
Still struggling with all of it. But reading you every week, Havi, helps. So much.
Disability prejudice/ablism is sooooooo deeply entwined with the work/shame oppression that exists in our culture, recursively seeding and reinforcing one another. Refusing to apologise for one’s existence, regardless of our level of ability (in each moment, which is dynamic for everyone) is political.
AND, hello, the changing abilities of old age is coming for everyone who manages to stay alive long enough, and I often wonder why it is so linked with a loss of ‘dignity’. What does that even mean? WHY do we feel it is ‘undignified’ to require care? WHY do we insist that ability must ONLY increase to satisfy ‘dignity’? If a person can remain self-determined and is clear of internalised disability prejudice, would being cared for still feel so undignified? I am an advocate for self-determination including the sovereign right to decide on the timing and manner of one’s dying AND I wonder if some of the aversion to being cared for when elderly or sick and frail isn’t, for many people, an aversion to the shame that arises at the thought of it. And isn’t that evidence of how deeply disability prejudice runs? I don’t see these views as conflicting. If someone wants a medically assisted death I am supportive of that, and I also want to live in a culture where being cared for and experiencing dignity are not so seemingly opposed.
That is to say…. I do not believe the aging into or illnessing into disability would be SO painful if Living While Disabled/Differabled were not held to be/experienced as suspect, if not outright shameful.
We need a village for the care of the elderly and disabled too. We need a village for the care of all of Our Selves too. Think how much healthier we’d all be, and how much less stressed, if no one had to carry on alone and unsupported.
Claire and Vica, yes yes yes!!! How we treat our elderly and the lack of support systems for caregivers is horrid!!!!! And yes of course (lightbulb! thank you Claire) related to how we treat disabled/differabled, and the whole concepts of “dignity” and work and “abledness”. And of course this is related to fear of aging and women trying to look 35 forever, at great expense (on so many levels). Dignity needs to be completely redefined.
How this resonates for me:
An image, and I mostly get words, not pictures.
Divine Feminine in lotus pose, root chakra glowing, eyes closed and one arm raised in a fist pump of Sovereign Yes.
Soft and strong.
Grounded and reaching.
All are welcome at this table of Good.
Also, I thought about getting a menstrual cup ages ago, for exactly those reasons, and then didn’t because inertia. And I don’t like change. And I’m ordering that thing today, anyway. It’s worth a try, isn’t it, monsters? An experiment.
Oh, THIS! Havi! Thank you for writing this today, when I’m in a particularly rabble-rousing state of mind and could thoroughly soak it up and enjoy it. Sending much love and appreciation.
* stands and applauds *
i love your articulation about this issue. i am currently having the experience where there are a lot of things i’m good at, a lot of things i _could_ do, but then there is a thing i _want_ to do, a thing i _crave_ doing. and i am trying to pull my hand back from the world that wants my attention to tell me what’s important, put that hand on my heart and say, “no. _this_ is what’s important.”
i also had the experience last week of avoiding phone calls and emails because i would have started them all with “sorry ____” and i realized that not only was i NOT sorry, but that i was so fucking tired of apologizing i decided to never do it again.
anyway, i love you. let us be rooted.
Oops! Those were supposed to be hearts, not question marks.
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3!
THANK YOU <3
I’ve been gone for so long (why?) but because there is magic I read this today and remembered why I love it here.
<3 <3 <3
On a practical level I am fortunate to have easy access to organic cotton pads (made by Natracare). I compost them in my garden… mmm
SING IT, SISTER!!!!!
And yes, the wish that I find myself wishing this week fits beautifully with all of this:
I want to breathe more deeply. This is about singing and using my voice and caring for my voice, metaphorically and also quite literally. May my breathing more deeply — remembering to do it, actually doing it, experiencing it, savoring it — serve as a fractal flower for everything in my life that needs more breath, more space, more love.
Also, I support your mission. I am here. <3
what I see
is that Amanda IS crowdfunding her baby
is one person
who has settled on funding the project
who happens to be a millionaire
so it’s easy for him to choose that
in cases where
the immediate project support crowd
is less able to
assume the entire cost
of the project
should it be
to help out
except that projects
that are children
and the carers
of those children
on this planet
to the story
of the culture
we live in
to be a child
or the carer of a child
is to impinge
on the energy and resources
which is why
get so much flak
why is the idea of welfare
in its essential
form as a
have become so associated
of the story
that our culture
when we believe that story
is held together
and each time we choose
to believe a different story
we strengthen that new story
and weaken the overriding culture
so choosing our stories
also: 1) I somehow temporarily forgot that amanda has a partner and about the resources he has
2) can we please please please from now on refer to ALL situations in which there are two or more people raising and caring for a child as “crowd-funded babies”, just to see what happens if we start thinking of it that way
Confusion reigns and the game is rigged.
and the carers
of those children
on this planet
to the story
of the culture”
Amanda Palmer and
and how many others
are pressured by Society
to have children.
To stop earning their keep.
To stop having value.
To give up their identities
and their work in the world.
Wow, yes, isn’t THAT interesting!! Double-bind of being a woman…
What wonderful wishes & awesome thought-stirring thoughts!
Do the talking.
The day had
I came across this on Sunday when I had a hermit day and it felt so apt.
Leaving hearts for this post.
RAWWR! what beautiful wishes. what beautiful writing. impact – with beautiful qualities and love.
my lover and your lover share this work, work, never say no to clients stuff, and I, like you, see that it is not my job to save him. It is sad and heartbreaking to witness. It is coming to the point where my self care may mean removing myself from it all so I don’t have to witness it. it hurts.
for me,I learned the hard way about setting employer boundaries, I give. I am as present as I can be. I watch my coworkers work 70 and 80 hour weeks, and I answer them no – I don’t feel guilty that I have boundaries. employer rents x amount of my time, my brain, my talents, but not Me, not my life. I don’t get replaced. I get respected. and promoted. and thanked for my clarity and presence and kindness. I wish I had not had to learn about this in a critical care bed via the emergency room. I don’t need to learn that again. [sending love and nutritious soup to me-then who did her best with what she knew]
The game is rigged. My wish is for me to slice that rigging, one cable, one strand at a time. To never ever go back. and yes, to choose the qualities I want in my life. to, thread by thread, rig a new game for me.
Wow!!!!! And sparklepoints to me for the ongoing struggle to be free of, to rise out of, placating and reassuring and apologizing.
Also sparklepoints to my phone’s autocomplete, which knows what sparklepoints are!
We ate HERE!!!!!
I mean, we ARE here!!! But eating is always good too…
My wish is all about Q of L, for me and for MH and for the Helpful One. Q of L. May I recognize it and value it and not let anyone or anything stand between me and what I want for Q of L.
The game is rigged, and I am sometimes able to insinuate myself between strands of the rigging and live according to my lights. More of this, please, more often.
Oh, wow, what beautiful wishes.
For me, I have chosen Brazil. I have always chosen Brazil. I will drop my red velvet ropes and let you peer into my theater and see that Questing Lee in Brazil is always playing. And they stand outside and say, “We can’t touch her, she’s gone to Brazil permanently.” And all they can do is destroy my body.
(Brazil, the 1985 movie.)
AMAZING as usual.
Just wanted to share this cool website about the Triangle Shirtwaist fire. I used to use it when I taught about the fire. I’m not connected to the website in any other way; I just think it’s a cool site.
Oh that’s a really excellent reference, thank you! What a sad story, I always end up in tears thinking about it. <3
Um, yes. My brain is still exploding with the abundance of consciousness-filled gems that you’ve written about here (and in every post on your site). Yes.
Say more about social justice. Say more about agitators and menstrual cups and The Game. Isn’t a big part of it that it riles people up? Keep on with what moves you and others will be moved, too.
My wish today is to move toward living more unapologetically. How many sentences do I begin with, “Sorry, but…” ? Too many. Thanks for all the wisdom you’ve imparted and the bits of your soul that you expose here so that we can grow together.
Oh, this is pinging around inside my skull, hitting all the pain and pleasure points, until I’m just sitting here nodding, yes, yes, yes.
Yes for the acknowledgment that if “it takes a village,” then OF COURSE that baby (all the babies) are crowdfunded. As they should be.
Yes for recognizing that expectation/urge/need/justification/whatever-the-hell-it-s of PARTITIONING FUNDS, even if the partitions are imaginary.
Yes for the acknowledgment of some magic beans that just landed in my lap this month, of a grant I received that is specifically FOR all the things I’m usually not allowed to apply for funding to support.
Yes for Emma, and the Triangle Shirtwaist girls, and every other woman who worked for something—either publicly or privately.
And yes to noticing how we work ourselves to death. How we are expected to work ourselves to death, how it is seen as noble. How “paying our dues” is a prerequisite to recognition or acceptance. I just found out today that a friend died over the weekend. He was an artist, just 29 years old, and while he had already accomplished so much through his work (including agitating for change every moment), he was still “paying his dues,” still viewed as something unfinished, untested. And still working too hard, I am willing to bet.
And now I’m nodding in confusion, because my friend is gone, and we’ll never see what he could have done, and all the things you and I and we have stated above are still true. And even as I read and say these things, I look over to my drafting table and see the pile of work I’ve laid out for myself. Nodding to that grindstone at my side, the one I myself have put there. Wondering where to go from here.
I am so sorry about the loss of your friend. Big heart of love for you. <3
This is beautiful and so are you!
Of course the Game is Rigged, how could I have forgotten that? We need more reminding. I want to hear more about what I can do. I want to hear more about a world where I can nap gloriously, guilt-free.
And wow, they have Thinx in my size!
This post! This beautiful post!
I want to say more, but I am typing on my phone
before I start work today
as a trade unionist
for a trade union.
So I will say
YOU ARE RIGHT
and come back later
I didn’t leave a wish on the day this post came out. Which is always a clew that I am waiting for something to change or get better before I wish, or update on wishes.
Last week I wanted more something with Code Name: 35. And I got it. A most wonderful day with him of taking chances and being brave and vulnerable and laughing and sharing stories and seeing our friends later.
And now I have a wonderful opportunity to be curious about what might happen. And to remember to keep my heart open and to try to quiet the monsters who are trying to shut the door so I’ll be safe. I might make them some tea.
So what I want is further travel down the road.
The game is rigged, and the ways in which I am complicit with the rigging (unintentionally, because – rigged!!! but also some intentional because of apathy, or overwhelm, or lack of confidence in feeling like I can make a difference) are frustrating indeed. The apologizing thing – argghhh!!!! Like another commenter mentioned, the number of times I catch “sorry” coming out of my mouth for things I have ZERO need or reason to be sorry for is RIDICULOUS!!! It’s like a nervous tic, and it MUST STOP.
So my wish, to start with, is to strike the word “sorry” from my vocabulary for a while. An experiment. The internal scientists are getting their notebooks ready. I can, of course, use the word if I do ACTUAL HARM that truly REQUIRES an apology, but otherwise no. Or *notice* when I do, and observe context, and reflect.
My other wish is for sweet and smooth sailing for an upcoming substitute-goat-herding engagement. May it be fun and sweet and full of love and ease.
Thank you for this post. The rabble is roused, and it is beautiful. <3
I have had so many favorite posts here through the years. So many things that have stirred me up and reminded me that even when I feel unseen and unheard, the truth that I feel is seen and heard (and felt!) by others.
This is my Favorite favorite. So many reasons for this – but for now… thank you <3
just reading this now, and want to say amen, thank you for this beautiful post, Havi. One of my favorite posts from you, ever. I have been thinking about you and your work nonstop as I write my thesis about restoring meaning & connection to our society (already cited you in one essay) and may have to cite this post now. <3
Everything on me says Yes to this!
Thank you, Havi!
It was so important for me to read this now, today, after such a week of hating myself in large part because of my perceived *selfishness*! How ridiculous to think that, but of course I’ve internalised all this shame and forgotten that The Game Is Rigged!
Such a timely reminder. Thank you. ?
I hope for more words like this from you,
more of the thoughts that had to be pushed to the side before
we are ready.
Yes. Yes to this.
I live in a completely income-sharing intentional community, where we crowdfund our babies, and the game is still rigged; we still have the Work Work Work mentality!
Indeed, the game is rigged. Dishes need to be washed. I know I have “modern conveniences” but I also get full of resentment that the brain and heart I’ve been investing in building still have to wash dishes. OK, no point resenting what I have no control over, but permission to resent being unappreciated, please!
Sorry is a word on my radar. Recently, I read that more women say “just” at work, as in “Can I just ask you a quick question?” Hey, dude, I’m going to ask you a long question. And I take up “your” time. And I take up space. And it’s ok!
Our wish is beautiful, for being appreciated for our setting up the beautiful here and now.
Also, anger at the rigged nature of the game is permitted. And maybe anger leads to seeing the fear monster underneath (monster: maybe I’m not good enough, if I can’t get the dishes washed while working 100 hours. Maybe I deserved to be soul-level drained by what I get done and ashamed for what I don’t). Ah, so now there is a pink sad fluffy monster who needs to get her dishpan hands manicured while I fuel my genuine yes with self-appreciation and gentle loving self-care.
!!!! Yes to all of this. I keep coming back to it because it’s SO IMPORTANT and so vital. <333 thank you