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“Maturity is a social construct upheld by the patriarchy with an incredibly narrow, white, cis, neurotypical scope to enforce conformity and then implemented as an othering and shaming tactic for anyone that steps outside of that paradigm.”
“We struggle too. We hurt. We handle situations badly or get depressed or anxious or anything else. We’re all flawed. Your emotional struggles as a human are not a moral judgment of your worth, and they’re not a reflection on your ability to help others.”
“If sitting with them were comfortable, we wouldn’t let them fester until they infected our hearts and our heads. But we avoid. We throw ourselves into work or vices or others because it’s easier to focus on those things than our own hurt.”
Something in Jude’s brain glitched, his world tipping. It was the deep bass of the people in the bar laughing and yelling and the screeching feedback of the microphone and the thuds of barstools that sounded like gunshots … and … and everything. “Jude.” Indira’s soft voice cut through the disarray of his senses, and she bobbed into focus in front of him. She looked calm. Soft. Steady. She looked like everything. His head swam. He wanted to ask her for help, but he didn’t know how. He wanted … wanted … “I’m going to touch you,” she whispered, holding up her palms. “Is that okay?” Somehow, he
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Therapy is scary because it requires you to be brave. It’s one of the most radical forms of self-love.”
Jude snorted. “Oh yeah … we were. I guess I must have blocked out the trauma.” “Lucky you. Collin’s screaming still haunts my dreams sometimes.” “I seem to remember you threatening to drive us the wrong way onto the highway if I made one more snarky comment.” “A vow that does not expire,” Indira said, trying to look serious but her face crumpling with giggles at the memory of their teenage dramatics.
Either her standards were exceptionally low, or Jude retaining her cheesesteak order for the better part of a decade was the most romantic thing to ever happen to her … Both things could be true.
The problem with being self-aware and introspective while also being, admittedly, emotionally damaged was that Indira could reason through her feelings and their source and how they didn’t serve her, but she also couldn’t stop the ruminating circles of feeling them.
“Indira and I are, um, together,” Jude said, clearing his throat. “She’s … she’s my girlfriend.” A beat of silence danced across the table before Mrs. Bailey erupted in excitement, clapping her hands. “Oh, how lovely,” she said, beaming. “Don, you owe me ten dollars.” Jude’s head whipped between his parents. “What?” Don looked up at the ceiling, a defeated sigh leaving his lips before he reached for his wallet in his back pocket and pulled out a bill, passing it across the table to his wife. “She bet me, probably fifteen years ago, that you two would end up together,” Don said, his face a
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“I’m not looking to fix you,” she said, staring straight into his eyes. “I’m here to love you.”
You can hurt and also be loved. You can feel sadness and also laugh and feel joy. Good emotions can coexist with hard ones. You can struggle and suffer and learn to heal while you also love. The best place to start is by giving yourself permission to feel with abandon. Feel everything.”
We can’t change our participation in the past, but we can pave the way for a healthier, mindful future.”
“Being in love doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t make me more whole or human than when I was single. But it is a safe, quiet space where I feel brave enough to look at those wounds … Stitch them up myself, no matter how long it takes.”
