Wearing my heart on my...

Let me tell you a story. It's about me. Maybe it's about you, too.

The other day when you forced yourself to pretend you weren't bothered by something even though you were really, really bothered by it and you wanted to say, THIS MAKES ME FEEL SAD AND ANGRY AND TRIGGERED! NOTICE THAT I AM NOT OKAY! But then you didn't? That day?

I hated that day. I bet you hated it, too.

I thought hard about why we didn't say anything. I think I was just bracing myself for all the things I didn't want to hear, all the dismissals. So I dismissed myself before anyone else could. Don't be so sensitive, Elizabeth. Stop taking everything so personally. I started checking under the bed for my sense of humor, my thicker skin. And you and I, we tried to learn to take a joke.

This happens to us all the time.

If I had been braver, I might have said...

• I don't think jokes about domestic violence are funny. 
• That scene in that movie made me feel uncomfortable. I didn't want to watch it. I just talked about the cinematography because I didn't want you to think I was a prude.  
• It bothers me when I hear people making fun of that girl who dresses differently. It doesn't just bother me. It makes me worry. Do people say things like that about me, too?
• That comment about other people's religious beliefs was hard to hear. I really want to honor the faith of others, even when it's not my faith.

If I had been braver, I might have let my heart show. But I was afraid to let them see it broken. This is a story about me. Is it a story about you, too?

love, elizabeth