🌿 Field Note: The Bruise Is Finally Surfacing aka It Wasn’t Visible Until It Was

I didn’t know it was there.
It was under the surface—
a deep bruise, close to the bone.

I moved through life as it was happening,
thinking I was adjusting, participating,
learning the tone of the room.

Looking back, I can see it more clearly.

At different points, I was misread.
Mischaracterized.
Placed into narratives that weren’t mine.

I also made an assumption—
that because others were casual, I could be too.
That friendliness translated the same way across the board.

It didn’t.

The tone shifted.
The expectations shifted.
The goalposts moved.

Unprofessional. Loose.
A double standard, to say the least.

Not dramatic.
Not even accusatory.

Not intentional.

Just part of the system.
Human folly.

And I didn’t recognize it while I was inside it.
I got used.

So I stepped back—fully.

Not out of rejection,
but out of recognition.

I don’t want to be distant.
I’m being selective.

People who relate call it discerning.
People who don’t call it snobbery.

I can’t stay entangled in interpretations that don’t belong to me.
I’m middle-aged and done fooling around.

So for now, I’m building alongside.
Not outside. Not above.
Just… to the side.

It feels a bit like an island.

More isolated than I’d choose,
but more natural—
and less susceptible to manipulation.

I’m hoping to build something steady—
a calm kind of community.

Soft landings.
Kind rituals.
Field Notes.

Work that speaks without needing translation.
Something that can be met as it is,
without being reshaped through someone else’s lens.

That’s the hope.

And for now,
that’s enough direction to keep going.

The bruise? Oh, it is still there. It surfaced the last few months and has started to break up and fade. It’s not entirely pretty, but the way the black faded to purple and blue and green and yellow - feels like art.