Sweet, Sweet Honeybee,
Thank you for listening to me and holding my hand while I forage for berries, blindfolded. I wish I had some soul to comfort me when I feel these waves of guilt and heat. What feels good to me is discouraged. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to go when each step forward I take is met with gasps and unapproving glares.
Most recently, I feel I’ve been distancing myself from those I love to minimize pushback.
Even my style of writing, as expressive and honest as it is gets me unapproving stares and jaws clenching. This week, I began the week all over the place. That’s on me. I will take responsibility for my emotions tripping me up, but I’m not a fan of the fact that only I have to bite my tongue in these situations.
I feel nervous talking honestly about my feelings. I am encouraged to work through them, but receive dirty looks and silence whenever I try to express myself the best I can. Am I expecting too much to want just somebody to listen and whisper don’t worry about it?