Don’t smother me. Please.

Last year, in eighth grade, all I wanted was to be  told it was all going to be okay. It’s what I wanted. This year is different. I don’t know why it’s different, but it’s different. I do not, I repeat, do not want to be smothered. Smothering me makes me angry and distanced. And by smothering, I mean all the excessive hope talks and it’s-going-to-be-okays. This does not mean I want to be abandoned. In fact, now would be the worst time to abandon me. What I want is someone to walk beside me and just roll with it. You know? Just be my friend.

And actually, I think I know why I don’t want all the mushiness like I did last year. This year, I had an even clearer image in my head of who I wanted to be than I did last year. This detour–this rut–was not part of the plan. (Not that eighth grade was planned or anything.) I drove myself to perfectionism so much that anything not perfect made me uncomfortable. So of course all the I’m-here-for-yous make me uncomfortable, because they’re a reminder that I failed at being perfect. Even worse, that the insane effort I put into being perfect is the reason I’m here in the first place.

I know I say this a lot. It’s just that I don’t want the mushiness. I want someone to simply acknowledge the fact that I’m not entirely okay and not try to then console me and shove their whole life into mine. “Yeah. You’re pretty not okay right now, but I still like you. You’re cool. Hey, I know, we should go climb trees or something. That sounds fun.” That’s what I want. Not, “I’m so sorry you’re going through this, oh wonderful young lady. It will get better. I love you with all my sympathetic heart. Do you want a hug? Talk all you want. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to be not okay. I’m here for you.” NO. BAD. I understand that the motives are all good, but again, that is not what I need right now.

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