I have less than an hour to meet my Tuesday night deadline. I had another idea for a post, but I need much more time to craft it. Instead, I think I’ll share a small, personal victory, of sorts.
It’s called “making breakfast,” and it’s a metaphor.
Some time ago, I viewed this drawing/article.
It has pictures. Please read it. The work the creator has done by making and sharing this is so, so important.
I have been beating myself up recently for leaving things unsaid. Friends have said or done things that I was not okay with, and I pretended everything was okay and did not say anything. Days have passed. Weeks have passed. Months. A year.
Now, I want to say something, but I freeze. Is it too late? What does it mean, to say it now? Is it even worth it? Am I crazy? If it wasn’t bad enough to say anything then, why say it now?
Enter, “Making Breakfast.”
Forgive me for twisting Anon’s original use of “breakfast” but I have conceptualized a way to forgive myself for taking so long to speak up about troubling interactions. Like the narrator, I needed time to compartmentalize. I needed to set the table and serve my friends the same smile and kindness to which they are daily accustomed. It may feel like I was being fake, but I needed time to let my feelings cook. In a perfect world, I would always be open and honest, but I have fears of my own, reasons I am afraid to fight.
“I’m not ready to talk to him because I’m still making breakfast.”
“I don’t think we should push her to confront her assailant because she is still making breakfast.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner, but I was making breakfast.”
“I have a feeling there’s something you want to talk to me about, maybe even something I did wrong, but that maybe you’re still making breakfast.”
The power of this idea, for me, is that it allows me to be gentle with myself. Yes, I should have spoken up sooner. Yes, it would be better for my friends if I am always open and honest. But sometimes, and with the best of intentions, I end up taking extra time — to heal, to process, to preserve the status quo, to believe in the possibilities of a happier story. It doesn’t mean it’s too late to speak up now