Not-shiny in Like No One Is Reading

I haven’t felt shiny since that time you saw me have a meltdown.

As a matter of fact, I’m still shocked you stayed with me after that. I’ve been waiting for ‘the end’ ever since, the message, email, or phone call saying you just can’t be with me this way anymore.

And every conversation that involves you accusing me of projection. Like the night at the massage parlor. Or today.

You said maybe your shiny was wearing off. From my perspective, sometimes it feels a little like you’re trying to rub your own shiny off. Maybe feeling shiny is too much pressure. I know my first instinct is to deny my own shininess, so maybe you’re making a subconscious effort to dim your own shine. I don’t know.

Almost 3 years ago, when we first began interacting, you requested access to this diary. You read about me, my deepest, darkest bits and pieces, my pain and trauma and mental illness, and you came back to me in such a way that made me feel like I could throw the door to my inner self wide open and let you in to see all that is me. You said you were inspired by me, impressed by me, that I was brave and capable and amazing. You listened (read) to my life story and you wrapped me up in love and friendship and kindness and made me feel safe and accepted and cared for in a way no one had ever cared for me.

I was, for the first time in my life, safe and comfortable in my own skin. I felt a kind of freedom I’ve never experienced before. I could just be! There are entries in this very diary about that!

But there are things in this world that I have not adjusted to, things I didn’t even know existed before you. I have a lot of garbage to work though, and I’m doing it, I’m doing the work, but there are probably always going to be things I am unable to comprehend, and I need that to be okay. I need who I am, every facet of me, to be okay with you. I don’t want you, or anyone else, to look at me like someone who needs to be fixed, or someone who needs their problems fixed for them. The only person capable of fixing anything about me, or my life, is me.

And I feel like that should apply to every individual. If someone says, “Help me,” help them if you can. If they say, “I’m having a terrible day,” say, “Is there any way I can help?” instead of “This is how you can fix that.”

Men, (white men in particular), with savior complexes are… problematic. I’m not saying you have a savior complex, exactly. Just that a constant feeling of needing to help or fix others is not healthy for you. I know because I used to do it. I still do on occasion, but I’m able to restrain myself much better than I could before. All it led to, for me, was a constant feeling of helplessness - and I know you’ve felt that way. You’ve said those words to me. “I feel helpless.”

That’s because you are. You are helpless to fix some things. We all are. And you are absolutely helpless when it comes to helping me with the things I actually need help with - and that’s okay! I don’t want your help with most of those things! Because you are not a therapist or a doctor, I actually definitely don’t want your help with some of those things. I’m not going to ask my doctor for art advice and I’m not going to ask my favorite artist for medical or mental health advice. That’s just common sense.

Now, if you’re gonna just go on worrying about it and trying to fix things out of your control and feeling upset and helpless about it, well… I have no control over that. That is not a ‘me’ issue. And I do not deserve to have the resulting agitation directed at me as if I’ve done something wrong by having a problem you are unable to help with.

What I do deserve is to be allowed to speak. To tell my story. To feel heard.

If you don’t want to hear my stories anymore, then what are we even doing here?