Picture the one person in the world you really wish were reading your blog. Write her or him a letter.
Dear the demon currently taking up space in the back of my head,
You seem to have gotten the wrong impression. I’d apologize for that but it’s you whose making me feel guilty when I shouldn’t. So I’m going to be very straight forward with you from here on out.
I did not invite you here. You came of your own volition and you’ve set up camp. You must have spent a fortune on that tent because those poles are sturdy and dug in deep. Every time I try and excavate you, you seem to only add more poles. Your tent keeps getting larger. It steadily increases in size and mundane possessions day by day.
I’ll say it again. You’re not welcome here. There is no room for you at the table. You can’t sit with me. You’re rude and annoying and obnoxious. You sit there on your little brown log, grilling sausages and tell me things that I don’t want to hear and saying things that make me feel small. I don’t appreciate your bullying. It’s unkind and unnecessary and you are simple inconsiderate.
You make me second guess myself and tell me that what I do and what I want is wrong, unworthy, impossible. You tell me that my desires are unprecedented. That those things don’t and should not happen to me.
You whisper in my ear one minute and scream at me the next. You don’t seem to know when to keep quiet. You don’t seem to know when you’re unwanted. You’re too busy telling me that I’m unwanted. That I’m not worth it.
I should cut out your tongue so you can no longer speak. But I’m just going to tell you something instead.
I do not care what you think. You’re not in charge of my life. You’re don’t get to dictate my choices. You’re not allowed to tell what I can and can’t do. What I can and can’t want. What I am and am not capable of.
I think it’s best for all if you leave. If you leave and never come back. We have a toxic relationship and I want no part of it. I don’t need your criticism. I don’t need your judgement. I don’t need your overbearing presence.
Please take your tent, your tiny grill, and your ridiculous floral sleeping bag and get the hell out of my head.