Close Enough to Listen, Not Close Enough to Care

It’s funny, or maybe a bit frustrating, how people can say one thing and mean another. Like, I’ll see someone comment, “I don’t have a problem with you,” and at the same time, their words make it clear that pretty much everything that defines me—or my world—somehow is a problem.

It feels a bit like being invited to a dinner where the main dish is something you can’t touch, and yet you’re expected to sit at the table, smile, and nod. Huh, yeah, it’s polite on the surface, but underneath it’s... well, something else. I don’t know, maybe that’s exactly what makes it so exhausting.

I notice that I’ve started holding back. I rarely engage in debates like I used to. Not because I don’t care or because I lack opinions, but because I know the moment I step in, I’ll have to navigate this weird balance: staying honest to myself while trying not to provoke that same, predictable backlash. And honestly, even when I see parts of their point that I could agree with... it’s hard. Hard to weigh one thing against all the other things they say—things that erase history, ignore context, misrepresent people, or step on beliefs that I hold sacred.

I sometimes just sit there, mmm, feeling like I have to choose between speaking up and keeping my integrity. And it’s draining. You start to notice the pattern: they follow you online, maybe even like your posts, but the respect for who you actually are—or the things you actually care about—doesn’t come with it. You’re seen, sure. But the parts that matter most? Not really.

And so, you hold back. You pick your words carefully. You measure. And maybe you wonder why it feels so strange, so upside-down. Like, you’re allowed at the table, but only as long as you don’t mind the main course. Ugh.

It’s complicated. And I guess, that’s the point. I see it more as a kind of quiet test. A test of patience, of ethics, of how much you can carry without compromising yourself. But mmm, I won’t lie—it’s heavy sometimes.