Am I a cog in other people's machines?
As January came to an end, I did my monthly check-in in my bullet journal.
How has January gone?
I began by writing about how I had felt low on energy and optimism but the month had buzzed by. A win for a month that, in a season I don’t cherish, usually drags by.
But, there was a frantic energy as I wrote, spurred on by purging of my thoughts in a private community earlier in the day. I found myself asking the questions:
Do I belong?
Do I belong anywhere?
“Life feels like an impossible puzzle that, no matter how hard I try, I cannot solve. Life is hard and I am tired." were the words that came as the answer.
Followed soon by, Am I just a cog in other people’s machines?
I have lived a life of fear. A life of staying very small. A life of fawning. Not so much “You like me, You really, really like me” more “Please, please like me. You can even be mean to me, just let me in. Please…”
I have, what a wiser person than me describes as, a brain that will ‘die on this hill’. I feel as if everything that has come before, is proof of what will come next. There is no other way. To resist is futile. We must just keep as we are.
For me, that is a desperate amount of people pleasing, always saying yes because no is not allowed, never voicing my needs, my opinions, my wants.
I mustn’t be a burden. I mustn’t be annoying. I mustn’t speak my truth. If I do, people will leave.
So, I say yes when I want to say no. If a no ever escapes my lips, I am racked with guilt. I become agitated and overwhelmed but I don’t voice my needs. I please others, even at the sake of my own happiness. I place everyone in this world above me.
I am a cog in their machine.
When you don’t allow yourself to be say no or even just allow yourself time with a simple “I will think about and get it and get back to you”,
When you don’t voice your needs,
When you don’t express how you feel,
Each time you tell yourself:
I don’t matter.
I am here to tell you - You do matter.
And not because you have a good job or did well in school or you went to university or you own a home or you are married or you have kids.
You matter. Period.
I don’t know who I am writing this letter to. Is it to you? Is it to me? Maybe both? Does it matter?
I will end by saying this:
You do matter. Your needs matter. Your wants matter. Your voice matters. Your ‘no’s’ matter.
You matter.
You are not a cog in anyone’s machine.
You’ve got this, kid. You’ve got this.
Thank you so much for reading.
As always, if you enjoyed this letter or anything resonated, please let me know by replying to this email or, if you are on Substack, by giving it a like or leaving a comment. If you really enjoyed it, please share it or restack it so someone else might find it. Thank you. 🖤
I’ve been Becky Handley and I matter! 1
Okay, no, let’s end it like normal.
Have a lovely week and please remember, you do matter!
Lots of love,
Becky
🖤✨🌈
The other working title for this letter was: “How many times can one writer use the word ‘matter’ in a relatively short letter” but it didn’t sound as catchy.
Also, this is just my futile attempt to make this letter feel less like a deep, open ocean and more like a comedy night. I’ve not deleted it because:
1. it’s very me
and
2. it shows sometimes writing the hard stuff is, well, hard. You try to cover it up sometimes with jokes. This is okay. You are only human. But you are allowed to open and honest without jokes. I promise.