unsent letter

love me

Hello, I wanted to write you an email explaining to you about death terror and how I keep realizing and forgetting: I don’t need you in particular; I need family, a functional culture, and to be loved properly by many people, near and far.  We would argue about details, but you don’t love me properly.  Some nuance of why and how doesn’t matter.

Explaining to the person who is not loving me right how they’re not loving me right is pointless.  If you wanted feedback about how you do social, how to make a more stable life for yourself, or how you use your privilege every day to improve your life at the expense of others, you’d ask, right?


It was an important moment in the craft room when you were explaining to me about leverage.  You think you know how to help the world, so you want the most possible leverage.  The light bulb went on over my head.  I realized you were admitting that power over other people really is the most important thing to you.

You were admitting that.  Wow–suddenly it all made sense.  I see you act that way in every meeting we attend together.  That shitty moment when someone objects, and you say, “No, I just want to ______,” and it’s treading on other persons.

Will they back down?  Will they stand up to you?  The instances are usually small, but when it happens every meeting, that adds up to huge power fuckery.

You call it leverage rather than domination.  And you make sounds about care in community wrapped in a Nonviolent Communication bow.  But I see you want the care for yourself, and you’re happy letting tenderhearted women and enbies do that for you.


I’m looking for family.  Sometimes it seemed you could be that and wanted it.  But in my experience, men won’t show up for another person unless they’re fucking them.  You don’t want to fuck me, so I’m just a regular person to you.  You will not actually love me.

Instead I get some weird framing of your tepid efforts like you are generous and caring.  And I’m minorly thanked for hard work I did bringing you food and tea and washing your dishes which were covered in covid germs, for days.  I risked my life to wash your dishes.  It was a layer of stress to everything else I’m doing that felt above and beyond.

I could ask you to thank me better.  Maybe I will.  But the thank you would not make you someone who could love me as I am, or even see me as I am, see the work, and actually care.

community facade

Community is as close as you’ll get to showing up for other people, but it’s with some lie egalitarian bullshit.  You’re allied with the other old white man–the power is nasty.  You do what makes you feel big, then congratulate yourself for minor efforts toward justice for those less powerful thank you.

That’s me and other ladies–the people less powerful than you.  That’s misogyny, and I’m not doing it anymore.  You ally yourself with authorities like Marshall Rosenburg, make your case, and step back.

Your authorities mean nothing to me.  I don’t think you’re right, regardless of who you’re parroting.  You have a good use of language, but you use it to dominate.  That’s not beautiful.  That’s ugly–I don’t want anything to do with it.


I want safety with love.  It’s about sharing and justice.

You want safety with power, and it’s disingenuous.  It’s dangerous for people like me who will get confused by touch and chuck resources into your bottomless well until I die.

I’m glad I noticed you’re a normal man.  And I’m glad you didn’t want to fuck me because that would have been hell.

Domination with consent is fun for play.  Your non-consent domination is everything I’m working against.  I hope I can remember this and stop risking my life to clean up after you.

I cry because it was an honor to heat that dal and make your tea, trying to keep you alive through illness.  But love is fake when it’s one way.


Please do cry, Nest.  The pain of lost possibility deserves to be felt.

But his love was never real–you never had it.  All that love is just inside you and still inside you.  In real life, you lost nothing.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

One reply on “love me”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *