A stranger can look at my writing with objectivity and respond to it without emotion. That’s my favorite part. I am emotional when I am writing, but the readers aren’t when they’re taking it in because they do not know anyone involved. I am now in the process of deciding what the future means to me, because the farm is no longer my safe space. Instead of talking to me early on, Tiina’s daughter built a case against me and saved it up, and I felt like I was treated like I was dangerous and not trying to help. That when I jump in, it’s for everyone, and not just her.
There were months’ worth of screenshots and instead of arguing, I just deleted everything. There’s nothing I can do to fix that relationship but stay away. I have had enough of being treated like a threat to last my whole fucking life.
They have the right to ask me to take things down. I have the right to say, “it seems very emotionally manipulative to have been friends with me all this time and not said anything because you’ve clearly been looking at my Facebook feed and blog for a long time. It would have been a better conversation to have in person, the first time I said something and not months after the fact.” It took time and effort to make me feel this blindsided.
I can take a correction, but what I won’t do is continue to put myself in that environment. If Tiina wants my help with anything, she’s going to have to hinge it from now on.
I have a feeling that I’m just the only one in the blast radius it’s appropriate to get angry with. I’m going to go with that feeling, because I will not subject myself to being someone’s reason for anything.
Stories That Are All True 