You don’t notice it immediately. It is subtle and quiet. Almost unassuming. But something happens at work. A disagreement with your boss perhaps. A comment from a co-worker. Your tone is mentioned. You brush it off. It’s not a big deal. You continue. Something else happens. A friendship is over. Someone said something hurtful. A comment was made behind your back. Messages go unanswered. You brush it off. The opportunity you were hoping for doesn’t materialize. You are not deemed good enough to be in the running. Other people have worked harder, or rather, they know the right people. You brush it off. This is the way the world works. You know this. The people you love aren’t available. The chores pile up. You feel like you’re on a conveyor belt of work, laundry, and errands. If you have children, the conveyor belt becomes a hamster wheel. You carry on. You brush it off. You keep going. You persevere.
However, every time you ‘brush it off’ something chips away at you. Wears you down. Erodes you ever so slightly. It happens in such tiny moments that you think they don’t matter, that it’s not affecting you and after all, you’re so damn good at brushing it off. But one day, something happens that makes you realise that all the moments, the incidents, the misaligned conversations, the put-downs, the insurmountable work you’re doing in the house and the workplace, have broken you down so effectively, you have started to become a different woman. The chips become gashes in the very essence of who you are.