I am an adult autistic woman, who grew up in the 80s when it was okay to abuse people who were different. I’m also gifted, more license for abuse. Because of that, I worked incredibly hard to control my emotions and to silence a voice that judges everyone. I don’t know your story.
This has made me everyone’s safe person. I am honored that people feel safe to tell me their secrets and their pains. But I’ve been taken advantage of, as well. I’ve been yelled at, verbally abused, emotionally broken because someone ELSE is having feelings they can’t deal with.
I don’t mind listening. I am happy to be Guinan, but if you want to keep having a safe person, and you need to yell, buy a houseplant. If you need to emotionally break something to make yourself feel better, the thrift store sells old coffee mugs for 50c. A ficus doesn’t have to remember years of painful work while hearing the whispers behind its back. A coffee mug won’t remember, eidetically, every judgement ever made on them.
I am a safe person. I am a secret keeper. I am also human.
