Rough Drafts
A Series of Pieces Written in The Wild
#5
I’m moving into the ‘fuck it’ phase of my life. I’ve dipped my toes in off and on but it’s a different kind of ‘fuck it’ when the silence when you walk through the door feels empowering. Like my mere presence can knock the wind out of sails. Putting leftovers in the fridge leaving people on the edge of their seat. It’s no fun walking on eggshells when you can make a meal of them instead. I’d rather feed off the awkward and uncomfortable than let it eat me alive. What was the crime I committed to begin with? Oh, right. Being alive. Being a person conditioned as a girl/woman. Being non-binary while still giving femme vibes confusing those who never had a problem using a singular they before it was a sign of respecting someone else’s individuality and autonomy. Being a person with standards and the communication skills to make expectations and feelings clear. Being someone who no longer entertains the idea of being ‘nice’ or the ‘bigger person’ to those who are unable to own up to mistakes and instead let them feel disappointed, confused, maybe fearful. As is their right. When people show you who they are, don’t keep things the same. Act accordingly. Get comfortable being the bad guy. Because if the bad guy means advocating for your self-respect, not letting people walk all over you or tell you your feelings of discomfort are to blame for everything, and doing life for your benefit then sign me up for Villain School.
