Humiliation: The Blog I Didn’t Want to Write

This week’s blog wasn’t supposed to exist.

I don’t force the blog. That’s not how it works. I ask for it, and when the topic surfaces, I accept it. That’s how it’s always been.

But this week? Night after night, I asked. Nothing.

Maybe I’d had something, a few strings to pull on, a couple of fleeting ideas, but nothing that felt like the blog. It was weird. Why wasn’t the blog flowing this week?

Instead of inspiration, I got stuck in a recurring dream.

It’s Ang, but it’s not Ang. She’s choosing someone else over me. Slowly moving away, pulling further and further back.

And we’re having an active conversation about it. She’s telling me I’m not enough. That I’ll never be enough.

There are no kids in the dream, because it’s not really her, but somehow it is. It’s the weight of her. The weight of being her.

Every night, the same dream. Every morning, the same weight.

And still, no blog.

It’s almost funny, right?

The irony of it. A blog that wasn’t flowing because I was too stuck in the very thing the blog needed to be about.

A word that I hadn't said, until I sat down at this computer a 2a, just a handful of hours before the newsletter is sent, to write out this dream that I kept having. Over and over again. 

And then, I wrote a word that felt so familiar. I see places and times in my life in this word. 

Humiliation.

Because that’s what it was. That’s what it is.

The dream. The weight of it. The way humiliation doesn’t just knock on the door, it moves in, takes over, and dares you to do something about it.

This blog wasn’t supposed to exist. Not because there wasn’t anything to say, but because I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to sit in the weight of humiliation. I didn’t want to acknowledge it.

But here it is anyway.

Not neat. Not tied up. Just heavy, messy, and unfinished.

If you’ve ever felt the weight of humiliation, you’ll get it. And if you haven’t, I hope it reminds you that sometimes, the things we don’t want to face are the ones we most need to say.

You can read the full blog HERE. 

The blog wasn’t supposed to exist.

But neither was the silence.