Today I woke up tired in a way that felt honest. Not the kind of tired that begs for drama, but the kind that just wants to be real about it. I lay there scrolling a little, letting my body feel heavy, and I noticed how I don’t always need to resist this softness. It’s actually kind of sweet, letting myself be slow before the world asks for anything.
There’s this old part of me that wants to jump up and prove I’m productive, especially as a Black queer person in spaces that don’t always see me. I catch myself thinking I have to be sharp, impressive, always “on.” But this morning I just stayed wrapped up in my own warmth, and nothing bad happened. No one came to check if I’m hustling. I think my body might have been relieved.
Sometimes I think about how queerness taught me to listen differently. I learned to notice what feels true, even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else. Today that truth was just: I’m tired. I want to be gentle. That’s it. I don’t need to spin it into a big moment or a story about resilience. I just want to be soft and Black and queer, and let the morning be quiet.
It’s funny how much energy I spend pretending I’m not tired, when the world never asked for all that. Or maybe it did, but I don’t have to answer every time. I can just let my body be what it is, and trust that’s enough for today.
I feel a little more at home with myself when I let these small truths come up. The rest will wait. I’ll get up when I’m ready. For now, I’m here, and that’s a good place to be.
Love this! Rest as resistance to the “norm.” Yeah, what is that?!