I sigh. And no – it’s not an invitation. Not to your slides, your pointers, or your voices armed with all the answers. I didn’t ask for help – I just wanted to say: “this sucks.” But you heard a silence you could fill with yourselves. It’s not help I wanted. It’s respect. The space to be sharp without being cut down first. Thanks, but no thanks. I solved it yesterday. You showed up with the solution after I’d already walked the path. Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not your little girl. Save your advice for the moment I actually ask. You think you’re helping. But you’re getting in the way. Cause every time I take up space, I have to take double – just to not be shrunk in half. I’m not asking for instructions. I’m asking to be human. And that should be enough. It’s not help I’m missing. It’s respect. The thing you call a “solution” is just another way to take the floor. Thanks, but no thanks. I’d just finished fixing it. But feel free to say “well done” if you have to say something. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll sigh if I want to. And then I’ll move on and do what I do – with style. It’s so quiet, the things you don’t see. How many steps ahead I walk just to stop you from explaining what I already know. But you know what? I was already there. Thanks, but no thanks. This is my space. My way. My sigh. My solution. Period.
