always on defense
the worst play is pushing people away
Please scroll all the way to the bottom for the author’s note. Thank you for reading.
Anticipatory disappointment is in direct opposition to the life I desire. And yet, I still find myself holding onto my most paradoxical protective measure: the tendency to assume the worst.
I’d like to release it, to embrace a return to self where I assumed the best in everyone and adjusted accordingly based on what they portrayed to me. But she’s gone, everything has changed, and so I can’t fault myself for no longer moving the same.
Five years ago, at the start of the global pandemic, I didn’t understand what a new normal entailed. I figured that we’d all proceed more cautiously, prioritizing more health conscious behaviors and initiatives for the betterment of the collective. I didn’t understand that the opposite would be true, that we’d normalize the abandonment of people in pursuit of the self, spiritual disconnection, and celebrity worship. I didn’t understand that I’d grow to become extremely distrusting of people, because we’re living during a time where inconsistency isn’t treated as gravely as it should.
Policymakers contradict themselves just as much as the people in our personal lives, which is why I continue to emphasize the notion that the personal is political and vice versa. The ways in which we operate in one area should align with how we operate in other environments. However, that’s often not the case for many people, leaving those of us who desire genuinely safe spaces to grieve the loss of something that’s seemingly growing extinct.
So, where do we go from here? How do I trust from here?
Everything feels deeply hurtful and confusing.
I hope for better but struggle to imagine it, as I move further away from the person I’d like to be.
In my dream world, I’m soft and playful all the time. I treat everyone kindly and everyone returns it, because it’s instinctual for all of us. The masses embody youthful joy, because it does not discriminate. Everyone has access to their basic needs, not because they’re overworked but because it’s their birthright.
In the actual world, I’m naive and misguided, foolishly optimistic for indulging the belief that capitalism could end in our lifetime. I’m asking to be left heartbroken or taken advantage of, if I don’t navigate life with a hardened exterior. I’m allegedly refusing to grow up, refusing to “adult,” by holding onto my precious light for dear life, for not accepting that the death of one’s soul is fated.
It is no wonder I struggle not to give up, not to push everyone away, because a defeatist mindset–often arriving from circumstances of mental exertion and systemic oppression–is still contagious.
When everyone else around you passively accepts this life for what it is, it’s hard not to mirror them. And yes, we should all know ourselves individually but I’d be lying if I pretended that it’s easy to resist the urge to become just as jaded, numb, and apathetic as everyone else.
I often wonder if remaining hopeful is damning me to a life of being deeply misunderstood forever.
Maybe it’d be easier to adopt a praxis of inflexible, binary thinking topped off with the sides of denialism and disassociation. No questioning of the status quo, just brunch and vibes. But I know I’d be more miserable in the long run.
Anytime I’ve tried to act nonchalant about the world and its people, I’ve only lost myself in the process. And how can I long for a return to ethics while refusing to address my shortcomings, by allowing fear to take over and prevent me from what my soul truly desires?
It’s heartbreaking to become the thing that I once turned my nose at, to become so paranoid in regards to people’s intentions and my place in the world. But just as the seasons shift, I have to believe the tide will turn for me too.
I don’t have all of the answers, and I no longer try to pretend that I do.
I’m still recovering from trauma, just as much as the next person, so I don’t have a monopoly on pain. No matter how often my brain attempts to convince me of otherwise.
Even without the proof of what I seek, I have to fight for what my heart believes, that a flicker of hope just might be enough to ignite the flames of love that the world needs.
I once spoke about letting people go, but maybe it’s time to let people back in, allowing them to surprise me with who they are instead of the ways in which they’ll fail me.
If not for me, then at least for the girl I used to be, the girl who used to dream.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider checking out my previous one:
Author’s note: Major thank you to everyone who has been so supportive of my work for the past few months. If you’ve noticed, I recently did a thing! I turned on paid subscriptions, which I’m still admittedly nervous about but I wanted to give myself a chance…the majority of my work on here will remain free to read, since I believe healing conversations need to be accessible. I’m not sure what “exclusive” content that I’d be willing to offer yet, so for now this is more of a donation-based situation. Alternatively, if you feel so inclined, you’re more than welcome to show love $ here: buymeacoffee.com/crierbyalexis
An rising epidemic