I Am Everyone’s Soft Landing

Dear Delyara, And I don’t know where mine is. That is the truth at the centre of so much of my tiredness. The children land in me. My husband lands in me. The house lands in me. Schedules, moods, forgotten things, worries, hunger, irritation, uncertainty — all of it comes through me eventually, and I am expected to absorb, soften, answer, translate, and stabilise. I can do that. That does not mean it costs nothing. Because there are evenings where I can feel the whole family leaning on the emotional labour I perform so automatically that no one even sees it as labour anymore. And while I am holding all of that, I still do not quite know where I am allowed to put myself down.