Almost 20 years ago today, I sat in an Agriculture class, and wrote notes, it seemed, for an entire term. I had friends and classmates troop in from time to time, to peer over my shoulder, as I wrote, and drew cow breeds, and hoes. It seemed then, to others, like a herculean task. It never worries me- that a task would be too daunting. And I mean that, humbly. With immense gratitude. What worries me is always the level of passion, or interest I have, then. That’s what I get to play with, or trick sometimes, when I have to. That’s what keeps me up. Because if I fail there, I fail. Surely there must be some love here, I push myself. Come on, at least some like? Can we like this, please? Enough to delve in? It seems like a very low bar to set myself, but I’ve never claimed to live a perfect life. It can get boring sometimes. Well, most times. But if I’m honest. Truly honest? Like is enough for me. That’s all I need, to get through any sphere of my life with grace- relationships, career and pet-projects. It feels like one of those days. Delving in, to pick up my Agriculture notes, once more. But I pick them up now with so much life experience.

A few days ago, I stood at the head of a janaza, the second in my life that I’ve had the courage to see. No, the priviledge to attend. I can’t imagine the hearts of those who frequently visit graves, because this seemed daunting all by itself. Does one ever get used to the smell of a friend in a different realm? There was a lot happening around me-but it was not the time, or place, to pass opinions or make judgment, on how to process grief. All I could do was stand amongst the tears, and attempt to be stoic. Even a year ago, the thought of visiting my beloved’s grave, let alone standing next to a janaza, was not to be borne. Where would I be without life experience?

A few months ago, I remember reading, and listening to the words of someone imploring me to give them a chance, unbothered. Two years ago, I would be in pieces, wracked with guilt. I would relent, in the face of this pressure. Never external, always my conscience. But I love me first now. And when I don’t? I love me more. I put me first. Like me first. Serve me first. Having said that, it would be enough for me to like you, to give you a chance. I don’t care about everyone else. I don’t care if the entire world likes you. Even champions you. And I don’t care if you have the world to offer. My spirit runs skeptical every time you speak. I can’t help myself. And sadly, you. These days, I do not intentionally put myself in experiences, and around people, who are not good for my nervous system. I’m truly sorry- it was never my intention to cause you pain. But life has taught me that if not now, definitely later. You’ll thank me, I promise you. Not now. But later.

Today, as I sit down to pick up my Agriculture notes once again, and I look around myself, I am burnt out. I’ve got no one to blame but myself. I have the freedom to plan and unplan my day, my work, even my experiences to an extent. There are no victims here. I can make independent decisions to say good bye to relationships that no longer serve me. I couldn’t fathom doing this, and living the life I live now 5 years ago, without angst. Whenever I have these kinds of experiences to get through now, I wake up with fire. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sad. But like I said, I’ve made a commitment to choose me first. I’ll really miss you. Really. But the truth is that you’re not on my team. And I don’t bury my head in the sand these days. You’re either team 100% me, as I am with you. Or it’s over. Those metaphorical fish in the sea? There are billions. Respectfully, I’m not for you. And you’re definitely not for me.

Sometimes putting myself first is painful- it means drinking bland water, and exercising. But team me, starts with me. Authentic me, who truly cares about me and my future, fights to rule the roost. Boundaries start with me. How could I ever hope to enforce that which is truly unfamiliar?

Are there trade-offs? Of course. Numerous. I live in a realistic world, these days. But I’ve made peace with them.

The games stop at the oxygen mask. I put my oxygen mask first on, now, always, without shame, guilt or sadness. Oodles of life experience have taught me well, and humbled me with gratitude. Because that proverbial time, these years, and those most painful life experiences have borne a confidence to make decisions that I wouldn’t trade for the world.