This blog post stems mostly from recent conversations I've been having with a few friends who wear similar shoes.
I am an emotionally literate soul. Which is to say, I'm pretty aware of how I feel and am okay, for the most part, with making myself vulnerable enough to talk about it when I feel it's warranted. (Or in the case of this blog, possibly even when it's unwarranted).
I am also fairly vocal about what it's like to live with lots of anxiety. Cause I think all of the above beats the hell outta the alternative of silence. (If silence really is an alternative at all).
And what drives me effing, super, all kinds of crazy-nuts, is that the most common response to the aforementioned me-ness results in being treated like a wee fragile wisp of a thing. For starters, it's annoying. More importantly, (and this is the really pissy part), it's infantilizing and paternalistic. I don't need to be protected from myself or anyone else (and even if I did, it'd still be my job to do it - or not to do it).
I can handle it. Because I'm a big girl now. And all kinds of scrappy. Really and for true. So please, can ya take off the kid gloves?
Mama T, on behalf of emotionally literate, scrappy & nutty women everywhere
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