Wholesome Badass

A Work in Progress — Healing from All the Things

Thomas Merton quote about abundance and deprivation, reflecting themes of emotional neglect, trauma, and inherited power dynamics

My Trajectory- The Matthew Effect

February 3, 2026

The Path that Formed Me I didn’t “pick bad people.” I picked familiar nervous systems—people whose emotional vacancy felt like home, because that’s what I learned from the people I loved and needed most. I’m tracing a path laid out long before I understood it. Neurodivergent, highly sensing, physically and emotionally reactive to things others barely notice. My discomfort didn’t fit the acceptable range. It wasn’t seen as different, but as wrong. And the fear of consequences for that discomfort made every moment fretful. My mother couldn’t tolerate the burden of learning how to comfort, nurture, and shelter me. So I was cast as “too sensitive,” “dramatic,” “manipulative,” “too much,” and later, “crazy.” Once she offloaded the responsibility of soothing me by turning it into judgment—impossible, ungrateful—others eagerly joined in: her mother, her brother, then my sister. Any sign of pain, need, or boundary was met with distance, disgust, silence, shunning. Instead of bridging me to support, she ostracized me—building a wall around me. I see now the water I was swimming in. And my boys were bathed in it too. “For unto every one that hath shall be given, and he shall have abundance: but from him that hath not shall be taken away even that which he hath.”—Thomas Merton

Quote image: “If you’re not at the table, you’re probably on the menu.” Exclusion, scapegoating, triangulation, and black-sheep labeling in family and social systems.

Dissent and Discipline: Understanding Family Dynamics

January 27, 2026

The Binary World I Grew Up In In my family, things weren’t simply liked or disliked—they were either the best or the worst. No middle ground, no “not for me.” If you didn’t love something, you had to hate it. Once something was labeled right or wrong, it became collective truth. Everyone had to agree—or at least pretend to. Questioning, hesitating, or feeling differently wasn’t just disagreement; it was dissent. And dissent made you the enemy. That breach wasn’t corrected, it was punished. Not to remove the threat, but to create a cautionary tale: this is what happens when you don’t fall in line. You lose protection. You’re cast out. Cooperation or neutrality didn’t exist—only winners and losers. And victory was best established by the outcast’s observable demise. Since exile wasn’t enough. You were destabilized—pressured, undermined, and then blamed for the very instability imposed on you. The campaign is subtle, managed through half-truths and character attacks disguised as concern. And here’s the part that hurts the most: I absorbed it. I carried those hateful beliefs and destructive behaviors into my own life. It’s true that hurt people hurt people. For decades, I caused pain equal to what I had lived—sometimes more. The first 35 years of my life were marked by destruction, fueled by the system I came from.

Quote about false narratives created by people who cause harm to avoid accountability for their actions.

The Quiet Logic of Exile

January 25, 2026

In connecting with other survivors of similar dynamics, I’m recognizing a pattern that seems less personal and more structural. In families and systems which rely on scapegoating, it’s apparently simpler to remove a wounded person than to acknowledge and repair what hurt them. Exile is the tidy solution. Repair would require humility, shared responsibility, and change. Removal does not. Visibility becomes an offense. Directness, sensitivity, and emotional earnestness aren’t acknowledged; instead, the person carrying them is quietly marked as the problem, serving well as a cautionary tale. What’s unsettling is how ordinary this can appear. The cruelty is subtle by design- expressed through concern, whispered warnings, and selective protection that isolates while claiming to care. No clear moment of rupture. Just a reorganization around comfort and protection of the system. Those still inside the system learn—often without being told: alignment is rewarded, and absence is easier to live with than complexity. In time, the person who stands alone, their alienation – is put forward as evidence of “how difficult/unwell they are”. The discomfort is neatly exported. The structure remains intact and protected fiercely by those it serves.

Text reads: “Be cautious of connections that feel like home if home wasn’t always a safe place for you.” A reflective image representing emotional awareness and healing from relational trauma.

When the Story Writes Itself

January 24, 2026

I can’t deny how “clean” and persuasive the narrative against me can look. That’s what happens when people of similar energetic makeup benefit from the same imbalance — the same rupture without repair. The story writes itself. I’m learning to recognize and name that attraction and familiarity. This isn’t self-exoneration. It’s pattern literacy. And it unsettles the most convenient explanation — that things are “difficult” only where I’m involved — when all other relationships remain intact through the shared commitment to avoidance of (conflict) resolution through silence, distance, and collective denial.

Overhead view of a chessboard highlighting a pawn in the foreground, with the queen and other pieces behind, symbolizing the contrast between visible power and hidden consequences in social and familial dynamics.

If X, Then Y: The Game Beneath the Board

January 23, 2026

I continue noticing how this pattern shows up at every scale. We’re taught to admire extreme wealth as proof of virtue — intelligence, discipline, superiority, deservingness. The story goes: They have more because they earned more. Which quietly implies the inverse: Those in poverty or struggle have failed. That belief system damages and divides all those without similar ranking. It hides how power actually works — how wealth concentrates through access, legislation, subsidy, insulation, and protection — and reframes it as moral achievement. It teaches people to confuse accumulation with character. Control with competence. Detachment is mistaken for self-control. “Coolness” as competence. And then how illuminated philanthropy serves as morally defining. People and systems can be emotionally cold, harsh, and controlling, even malevolent in private relationships while being visibly giving in public. They receive credit and moral insulation for “doing good,” without accountability for the harm enacted out of view—especially when it lands on those with less power and presence. The generosity is legible. The damage is diffuse. And the people negatively impacted are easy to disregard.

Split image showing a smiling “good witch” labeled as how narcissistic personalities present publicly, contrasted with an angry “wicked witch” labeled as how they behave privately in close relationships.

The Binary: Invisible or a Spectacle

January 21, 2026

Post-therapy processing. I keep noticing a painful pattern. When I speak directly—calmly, clearly, logically—it’s often received as aggression. Meanwhile, dishonesty softened with politeness, or harm delivered with a smile, is protected, even rewarded. In the past, I would escalate or collapse, distracting from the issue with my reaction. I don’t do that anymore, but the outcome is no better. My existence itself starts to feel like the problem. I’ve been labeled “demanding” or “confrontational” simply for asking direct questions or naming inconsistencies. Clarity seems threatening to those who rely on ambiguity. Without wiggle room, there’s no easy exit, so instead of engaging with the issue, the focus shifts to me for raising it. Clarity isn’t manipulation—it’s an attempt to understand what’s real. Passive aggression works differently. It dismisses boundaries, contradicts itself, or withdraws without owning the impact. If I react, my reaction becomes the headline. The harm vanishes, replaced by concern about my tone, my intensity, my feelings. That’s where the punishable feeling comes from—not because I’m wrong, but because I’m visible. This is especially common for people like me: highly sensitive, neurodivergent, earnest. In systems that prize politeness over honesty, directness breaks the spell. Accountability is reframed as hostility. Repair is avoided. The story becomes that the person naming the problem is the problem. My choices narrow: stay invisible, or be made into a spectacle. Neither feels safe or healthy. I’m not interested in winning arguments or proving anyone wrong. I want movement, repair, the question: what can we do to make this better? Yet again and again, I meet people who want only rightness—debates about tone, form, correctness—because once rightness is established, nothing more is required. I’m still healing from how often my nervous system has been punished for my inability to play along. I’m learning not to disappear or become a spectacle. I keep seeking a third way. I want to believe that in healthy systems, directness doesn’t equal war, disrespect, or danger. That standing without shame or silence isn’t audacious—or punishable.

Illustration of Gottman’s Four Horsemen representing criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling in relationships

When Rightness Trumps Repair: Patterns in Diifficult Relationships

January 16, 2026

I’m getting closer to being able to name and understand this pattern after friction or rupture in relationships with people heavily invested in their rightness and entitlement, and equally invested in my wrongness and unworthiness. When the conversation—tilts into litigation mode, they get to focus on proving the impeccability of their form while pointing to my “sensitivity” and inability to percieve correctly as THE problem. Historically I offered up the gift of distraction – with high reactivity- my increasing escalation or full on collapse. Having withdraawn these unfortunate ways of feeding the binary dynamic, has not been well-recieved, which at first made no sense, to me. I was like “let’s celebrate”- Now we can really focus on repair—right? Wrong. When I limit my communication to the question of “what we can each do to make this better for us”, it has been treated as an act of hostility or insolence – their focus and commitment are to their authority, rightness, and excellence of form. Because if they are right and in perfect form, then the only problem is the person who notices the problem or reacts imperfectly to it. When I fail to degrade myself in escalation or collapse, I am consistently met with stone cold silence. There is a specific exhaustion in holding the map while being told the map is the problem:

James Baldwin quote about facing truth overlaid on a minimalist image symbolizing emotional clarity, reflection, and the cost of acknowledgment.

How to Alienate Others and Die Alone

January 10, 2026

How to Alienate Others and Die Completely Alone A Working Draft Introduction I used to believe relationships failed because of misunderstanding. This is my attempt to document how I learned they fail faster when you insist on a shared understanding. Proven Alienation Accellerants Step One: Take Everything Seriously Assume words mean things. Assume patterns matter. Assume what hurts once will hurt again. Respond with directness. Step Two: Ask for Clarification When something feels off, say so. When it still feels off, say it again — more carefully this time. Use sentences like: This will make people tired. Step Three: Confuse Discomfort With Harm Fail to understand that making someone uncomfortable is more problematic than being hurt. Persist in believing that pain should be addressed instead of silenced. Notice when people withdraw. Misinterpret that as something to explore rather than a warning. Step Four: Believe Repair Is a Thing Assume relationships bend instead of snap. Assume naming a rupture invites care instead of retaliation. Wait for accountability that is never coming. Decline reconcilliartion without repair. Reject coercion disguised as “confusion” or “concern” This is where momentum builds. Step Five: Keep Showing Up as Yourself Do not read the room fast enough. Do not learn when to soften, shrink, or disappear. Continue speaking in full sentences when fragments would suffice. Remain available, clear, and boundaried. Remain earnest. People will begin to agree you are the problem. Step Six: Get Labelled as “A Lot” Be described, vaguely, as: Note that no one can point to a specific event. Accept that your personality is now the evidence. Step Seven: Try Harder Explain yourself better. Use fewer words. Then more precise ones. Then fewer again. Apologize for the impact. Then for the tone. Then for existing in a way that requires conversation. Watch nothing improve. Step Eight: Be Surprised by the Outcome Be shocked when: Marvel briefly that love was conditional on compliance. Conclusion If you want to alienate others efficiently, believe that relationships are places where things can be directly addressed. If you want to ensure solitude, refuse to learn how to erase any trace of your unique experience and existence. I find myself at an impasse with my historical relationships. All taking the same shape—the kind I was conditioned, programmed, and groomed to choose and accept.