I thought I was being productive.

Turns out, I was performing.

Performance is a pattern.

I thought I was making progress.

Turns out, I was managing emotion.

Management is a mode.

I wasn’t in the moment.

I was ahead of it.

Planning for the fallout.

Bracing for the turn.

The moment isn’t loud.

It doesn’t demand.

It doesn’t perform.

It waits.

It invites.

I kept misdiagnosing it.

Acting like it was a survival moment

when there wasn’t a life and death threat.

My story told me there was.

My emotions felt like there was.

My actions looked like there was.

I was with someone I love.

They weren’t asking for advice.

They were asking for me to hold space.

I gave them clarity.

I gave them insight.

I gave them everything.

I missed what they were asking for.

They wanted space.

Not from me,

space with me.

Space for me to hear them.

Space for them to see themselves.

I missed it.

I didn’t want to feel.

Uncertainty. Shame. Grief.

It’s easier to narrate than to be here.

Even when it’s your stuff.

Especially when it’s my feelings.

The moment doesn’t need my vision.

It’s asking for my attention.

I say I’m busy. I say I’m tired.

What I mean is: I don’t know how to be here

without fixing it.

I can’t change this pattern

if I keep misdiagnosing the moment.