Confession: When I was a young child I playfully teased someone and accidentally hit them in the eye with the end of a stuffed animal. Before I knew it they had me pressed up against the wall by my throat. The other person who was there freaked out, and they let go, but I laughed.
I wasn’t going to let anyone see how shocked I was—that felt weak to me. I also didn’t want to make things worse for them. They knew what they did wasn’t nice, and I still care about this person (I’m happy to see them on the rare occasions that I do).
My reaction to things like this are both badass and sad. Badass because I’m tough as hell, and sad because I became tough as hell. It reached a point where it’s no longer a positive characteristic.
It becomes a cycle of not caring. And once you stop caring, a lot follows. I think discerning what to care—and not care— about is the real “tough as hell” thing you can do.
Sound of the day: Many Voices Speak – Want It Kept https://youtu.be/Nyr_AVwnsrM?si=ilQLj0sGANLvYD_e
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