fragility

I feel so fragile, sometimes.

I start to write, here or somewhere else, about LGBTQ rights, or public health, or social justice, and then I think: how do I do justice to this concept I am passionate about without alienating people I care about, or burning myself out, or opening myself up to arguments that I feel too vulnerable to engage in? So then I don't write, and then I silently curse myself for being so fragile.

These are conversations I engage in at school, at work, and in my life, but for some reason writing them down always seems scary. Partially because in person I can stumble my way through a conversation with some degree of grace and ability to articulate, but in writing the words always seem locked down, too permanent. Also, people can be mean in writing (and on the internet). People can be mean in person, too, but the words don't linger with the same harshness and permanence.

So then I don't write at all, and it makes me feel like there are pieces of me floating around that need to be written down and aren't, so maybe they float away and I lose them completely, or maybe they bounce around inside me creating little internal bruises until I'm too tired to do the work I love, or to love the people in my life they way they deserve to be loved. And I feel like some of the people who aren't in my daily life, but are nonetheless important to me, don't really know me at all because I'm too fragile to put myself out there.


And then I think: I'm alive, and I'm living a life I love, and I'm doing work I'm passionate about, and I have amazing friends, family, and chosen/created family. So maybe I'm not as fragile as I think I am. Or maybe being fragile isn't such a bad thing. I just need to find balance.