This word drives me nuts.
I’ve been told many times that I am not resilient. Starting projects, leaving them. Fleeting from one hobby to the next like butterfly collecting nectar. Giving up on a tough problem and procrastinating.
I’ve been told many times that I am not resilient, and more often than not it’s coming from the tiny voice inside my head.
If I am not resilient, why don’t I just quit sabotaging myself already? One question to the wind indeed.
If I am not resilient then how did I lasted way longer than I should have in a high school that had not quite figure out how to deal with yellow faces on the ground? How did I manage to worked my way through wilted and withered relationships that had nothing but ashes to build some souvenir keychain from, but hey what great keychains they were? And how the hell did I manage to stay in jobs and bosses that never quite appreciate the hours and toils required to produce the polished end result? What, they think those stuff comes out of a unicorn’s ass at the press of a button?
Now, tell me I am not resilient to my face one more time.
And let me hug you.
Your world, my world, our world, won’t collapse just because I decided to quit sewing class before I managed to sew a straight line.