acts of service / disability / living on acts of service
ok first post. sorry i’m nervous
i’m listening to fall out boy’s “homesick at space camp”, and thinking about how much i’m fighting love preformed in acts of service. you can love me but you cannot love me in a way that everyone must, by default, resort to
i inherently want to love acts of service from my friends but “i want to do something for you” has always led me to places that makes me ill. it’s held above my head, it’s made me to believe i must physically reciprocate in some manner, that love is something even. if i am taking up too much of it i’ll be put down as exhausting
none of these things are true, yes, but it’s an explanation behind my instinctive “no” and how i’m trying to understand the softness instead of rigidity of dependency.
my disability has taught me the dilemma of independency and dependency and having to face the reality that i cannot make myself “low needs”, but this fear bleeds into everything. it bleeds into my worth and how people talk about me, what people could do for me, what they could do to me
acts of service reminds me of all the things i can’t do sometimes, or even seems like a default need instead of an act of love.
yes, i need you to DIY this top. no, you can’t do it for free because i’ll bawl on your floor. you have to have some kind of exchange of goods. it’s the only logical reason you would do it for me
yes, i do actually want you to find stupid reasons to see me every week, even if that’s what’s motivating me to get a tattoo. no, don’t actually do it though, because i’ll remember how much i’m dependent on you and how much you don’t need me
i want to be able to put studs and spikes in all my hoodies and i want to understand that you’re offering to do it because you care about me, not just because i can’t do it.
and the more time i spend with you and unravel the locket i’ve buried beneath albums and fashion, i’m coming to the conclusion that many of my friends do love me in their own way. i’m sorry i’ve shut them down so many times, realizing their offers of love and support wasn’t for solely one reason.
and it makes me sad, to think i’ve shut them out unknowingly, and to think that everyone doesn’t just see me for the obvious. offer for the obvious. sometimes you truly care about me and it’s not just about remembering my favorite fall out boy album is actually folie á deux, that i have a collection of t-shirts, or some other niche thing. you love me because i am me. you don’t love me because i need to be loved.
