breathing through the weight of toxic positivity

Suffocating, feels like I can’t breathe

Can’t speak

The problem, of course, is that toxic positivity is

She feigns concern for her children, “They should have heat when it’s cold.” The problem it isn’t that it’s cold.  My own mother gently chided me when I complained, “Good thing you lost heat when you didn’t really need it, right?” Still, it’s funny how she only cares about the children’s wellbeing when they’re at their father’s house.  She doesn’t offer to help, of course, except to keep the children with her for more overnights.  She doesn’t say, “Hey, I’m sorry I pretended your income was almost three times what it actually is, I’ll give you some money back.”  But it’s hard to fight her statement, if you forget literally everything else.

“Every baby is a blessing,” but if you dare to point out that maybe a fifteen year old child shouldn’t be having a baby- because, remember motherhood is hard, right- you’re the monster for suggesting we should provide better birth control and access to abortion. Hey, I’m sure being a mom is actually easier for a 15 year old than the hordes of 30 something women complaining every day about how difficult their lives are. You don’t want to be the negative one, though.

I stay silent, pretend like it’s somehow a great thing that all these teenagers are pregnant, I’m sure it won’t negatively impact their lives. Their children won’t grow up resentful and stop talking to them at 18. I don’t say anything.  There’s no point.

Someone is so thrilled to have found her perfect master that she submitted to in less than a year, but acts like it was such a long wait. I bite my tongue when I think of every person who came forward and alleged their own dominant was toxic (“But he seemed so wonderful in the beginning”) after giving it all of six months before assuring themselves he was “the one.” Or at least one of the ones.

I want to say, awesome, but– the unwanted “but.” “But maybe you should be cautious.” “But maybe you should get to know them as a person, before submitting.” Nobody wants to hear it. Nobody wants to hear I took three years before submitting.  That’s forever.  Nobody wants to wait that long for satisfaction.

Truthfully, I want to be positive, bright, and uplifting. If reality didn’t exist, I would be that shining star. Except darkness exists, too.

Only, well, who wants to hear that?

Oh, you’re allowed to debunk a few old chestnuts, “Everything’s fine,” “Brush it off,” “This will be so easy for you.” They give you some nice, socially approved replacement phrases to make life all better. Just don’t say too much.

I’m just a little tired of being the shoulder to cry on when yet another one of my friends can’t find “anyone,” because they refuse to stop unicorn hunting for some perfect 6′ foot, physically fit, financially secure, monogamous dominant or ultimate loyal submissive…or another’s boyfriend replaces her with the new, younger girl they moved in…or whatever the emotional trauma is they’re living in.

I take a deep breath…

…then I let go. It is not my burden to save them, nor my responsibility. So I breathe and move on.

It is freeing.

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