What If the Problem Was Never You?

I used to think I was the common denominator.

A revolving door of professional environments where I was celebrated on Monday and shamed by Friday? Failing relationships over and over again? The feeling that I constantly had to defend my identity just to be seen and heard in the world? It had to be me… right?

That’s what shame will do to you. It doesn’t just whisper—you’re the problem. It builds a whole PowerPoint presentation about it, backed with receipts from every failed relationship, every email you reread 30 times, and every time someone told you to be "less much."

But over time—through therapy, storytelling, chosen family, and enough dancing to ruin multiple pairs of bedazzled Chuck Taylors —I started to ask a different question:

What if the problem wasn’t me?

What if the problem was the system I kept trying to contort myself to fit?

One boss used to call me “emotionally intense” like it was a diagnosis. Another gave out $30K hush money checks to keep quiet after a harassment scandal. Another boss came to work strung out and sent me links to porn. Another boss threw things across the office and once dumped over the refrigerator. Through it all, I was expected to handle HR with zero pay bump and zero support.

And I still went home wondering if I was too sensitive.

It took me years to realize that the places I didn’t fit weren’t a verdict on my worth. They were evidence that I wasn’t meant to shrink. I wasn’t built to blend in. I was built to feel deeply, to speak truth, to make meaning, and to remind people they deserve joy. That’s not a flaw. That’s one of my most magical features.

Real healing started when I stopped trying to be “good enough” for broken systems and started asking: What’s real for me? What’s honest? What’s mine to carry — and what never was?

Turns out, the world doesn’t need a shinier version of me. It needs the real me. Soft edges. Loud laugh. Deep feelings.

And a refusal to pretend that soul-level joy doesn’t matter.

So if you’ve ever felt like you’re the problem, here’s what I’d offer:
*** Maybe you’re not broken.
*** Maybe you’re the mirror.
*** Maybe your sensitivity is wisdom.
*** Maybe your queerness is prophecy.

Maybe your joy is defiance, your softness is strength, and your existence is exactly the revolution the world needs.

I’m not saying I’ve figured it all out. But I’ve started to trust myself again. And honey, that’s a darn good start.