I thought I was being honest.

Turns out, I was being urgent.

Urgent is a frame.

I thought I was being clear.

Turns out, I was maintaining.

Maintaining is a frame.

Frames don’t ask.

They assume.

They push.

They perform.

I don’t say I’m scared.

I say I’m frustrated.

I say I’m confused.

I say I’m overwhelmed.

What I mean is:

The frame I’m in

is too small for the life I’m trying to live.

Someone asked, how can I help?

I didn’t know.

I framed help as failure.

As weakness.

As incompetence.

Instead of being vulnerable.

I was accurate.

Rather than tell the truth

I deflected by drawing a map.

Naming a pattern.

Articulating accurately.

I never said, I’m scared.

Or I don’t know.

That frame provides me clarity

while it keeps me distant.

It keeps me safe.

It keeps me apart from.

I want to be a part of.

I want something more complete.

One that includes

not knowing, grief, and fear.

I can’t change my system

if I can’t see my frame.

If I can’t name my frame

I am dominated by it.