Chaos and Charm

Somehow, I became the emotional support friend.
The one who knows how to calm everyone down, fix the vibe, crack a joke, and find the bright side when the ship is clearly sinking.

It’s like the universe said, “You seem responsible enough for everyone’s feelings,” <cue wicked cackle>
and I just… forgot to read the fine print.

Because don’t get me wrong — I love being the strong one.
The reliable one. The one who says, “You got this!” with a straight face, even when I, too, am hanging by a spiritual thread and some fading optimism.

But sometimes?
The emotional support friend needs emotional support too.
And I’m grateful for the few who pretend to have it together just
to cheer me on.
“Ju know who ju are, mamas.” 🩷

It’s fine. (Ok, maybe not entirely fine, but we move.)

I’ve mastered the art of pep-talking others while simultaneously spiraling in my own head.
It’s a talent. It’s also a little unhinged. Ok, a lot unhinged.

But here’s the plot twist — half the time, the people I think have it all together?
They’re just better at hiding their chaos.
We’re all out here pretending to know what we’re doing,
when really, we’re winging it with Google, gut instinct, and a half-charged phone — freelancing our sanity one day at a time.

Adulting is just saying “I’ll figure it out” on a loop until you die.
And honestly? Same.

So I’m trying to let myself off the hook.
To stop thinking I have to be the anchor all the time.
Because even anchors get tired — and sometimes, you need to float for a bit.

I’m learning it’s ok to be the strong one and the messy one.
The one who gives great advice and still needs a day off from being emotionally employed.

Because truthfully?
We’re all just guessing.
I just happen to look like I know what I’m doing.

And if you’re looking for the emotional support friend…
she’s currently on break.