You already know. The question is how long you have known.
There are things that were never mine to carry. I knew that. And I carried them anyway.
Because it was assumed. Because I was capable. Because I was reliable. Because I was there.
Capable became convenient. Reliable became expected. Available became obligated. My presence became permission.
One quiet theft at a time.
I allowed that.
I knew.
I allowed it anyway.
You know the last time you said it’s fine. You know when you pick up what is not yours to carry. You know when you smile through something that deserves a different response. You know when you say yes from a place that is already no.
You know.
You allow it anyway.
Allowing feels easier than the alternative. The alternative means a conversation. The conversation means conflict. Conflict means discomfort.
Discomfort sucks.
Yet you allow it.
And then you allow it again.
And then one day it stops feeling like a choice. It just feels like...life.
It happens in the spaces between decisions. In the moments we let pass without speaking. In the compromises we make way too often.
We allow the unanswered message to become the standard. We allow the unclear expectation to become the process. We allow other people's emotions to become our responsibility. We allow overextension to become proof of commitment. We allow silence to stand in for consent.
One quiet theft at a time.
You already know what you are allowing.
The question now is what you do with that knowing.
If it cost you your peace, it is too expensive.
What is this question bringing up for you?
Sawubona