my yes still comes out before i've decided anything. every day.
what changed is what i do next. when i catch myself drifting, my hand goes to my chest and i say one word. "here."
some days that catches it. lots of days the yes is already out before my hand even moves. it fails a lot and it works a lot. same week, same me. i can't count it any better than that.
i should back up.
for most of my life, someone would ask me for something and my lips were already moving. a second later i didn't feel like myself, because it wasn't me who said it. it was the fear of being the only one who said no. the guilt under that. the fear of ending up alone.
promises didn't work, and willpower didn't work either, not for me. the yes was there before i ever got to choose.
the hoodie doesn't fix anything. it doesn't cure the fear. on the days it works, it gives me one second between the yes that isn't mine and the one that is. it's a cue, not a cure.
so why keep practicing a thing that misses this much?
because before, i didn't even notice it. the yes just went out on its own. i'd feel the pull, but it was a pull i couldn't do anything about. i'd just give in. now i know when i'm about to give. there's a moment now between the question and my answer, and i get to choose before it goes out. i don't always choose well. but the choosing is mine now, and it wasn't before.
and every one of those little yes-or-nos is a choice. if i'm not present enough to make it, the world makes it for me. that's how i lose who i am. not in one big moment. one slow yes at a time.
i don't believe i'm made by chance. i'm made by choice, by what i say yes to and what i say no to. that's how i save me.
so tomorrow, when the yes tries to go first again, i'll be there, hand on my chest, sometimes in time, sometimes not. the ones i catch are mine, now.