Human Power Outlet

I’m feeling such defeat.

It’s a hard place to be. Normally, I feel superhuman. I’m not hurt by much- it’s tough for anyone’s words to impact me because I’ve been bullied my entire life.

When I was in high school, Snapchat was released, and the girls in my grade would take photos of me without my knowledge, draw devil horns and other inappropriate things on my face in red “ink”, and send those images around to other boys and girls in my classes. Other students felt bad, but they were afraid to defend me because Snapchat sent a screenshot notification to anyone who captured the bullying in real time. No high school student wanted to be in my position, so I was often met with a peer indifference that confused me, that really hurt me. I stayed quiet to avoid the consequence of conflict, and I carried that sentiment with me into young adulthood.

I just wanted to be left alone, so I’d eat my salami and cheese sandwiches in the bathroom stalls to avoid further harm. But harm was always just a classroom away. As hard as I tried to avoid the drama, the drama always seemed to follow me.

I don’t write this because I want pity; I’ve overcome those years, and in a lot of ways, I’m grateful for the lessons those high school bullies taught me. I have thick skin. I was a victim, but those experiences also primed me for my survival as an adult.

Today is tough, though. I’m 29 years old, and for as long as I can remember, I’ve craved the depth of real human connection. I have a tendency to overgive in an effort to make the people in my life love me as much as I love them, but I’m only now realizing that someone can only meet you as deep as they’ve met themselves. It’s cliché, I know, but it’s the truth.

My capacity feels as deep as the Pacific Ocean. My ability to love wholly, unconditionally, and without restriction is real. I have no trouble making friends or building community because I’m open and joyful. I believe we all deserve that from each other because that’s what human connection is built on.

The unfortunate part for me is that if people can only love me as much as they love themselves, well, that sucks—because society is plagued with people who can’t look in the mirror for more than five seconds without disgust.

America thrives on profit. More. More. More.

What gets rewarded isn't love; it’s conformity, misogyny, and a rat race for more money, more power, and more stuff.

I’ve lost so many people. I’ve had to let go of so many because they’re too ignorant to turn inward. I see it now: they don’t deserve my presence, but it still hurts to let them go.

I often feel like an electrical outlet: I’m there when my community needs to plug in and drain my energy so they can supercharge theirs, and when they’re fully charged, they unplug and leave me powerless until I can find a way to recharge. I always do because I have thick skin, but I’ve had to block these same people from plugging into me so I can conserve my power. That hurts. The loss hurts, but I know it’s for the best.

In the meantime, I feel such defeat.

Thank you for reading.