I was the golden child. The overachiever. The one who always had the answers, the one people called gifted, smart, capable. A genius, they said. The kind of person who was supposed to go far, do great things.
And yet, I was lazy.
At least, that’s what I was told.
Because I didn’t always do what was expected. Because I didn’t do the dishes right away. Because I never saw house chores as a duty, as something I had to do just because I was born a certain way. Because I never learned to cook well. Because I let the laundry sit a little too long. Because I wasn’t always moving. Because I liked to rest. Because I didn’t wake up at dawn to squeeze every second out of the day. Because I had moments where I stopped, where I didn’t want to push myself beyond exhaustion.
“You’ll never make it like this.”
“No man will accept you.”
“No one will.”
I heard it enough times that I started to believe it. Maybe I was wasting my potential. Maybe something was wrong with me. Maybe I was supposed to wake up earlier, work harder, never say no. Maybe being tired was just an excuse.
But what if I was never lazy?
What if I was just… exhausted?
Not the kind of exhausted that a nap can fix, but the kind that builds up over time. The kind that comes from being too much for too long. From always being the one expected to achieve, to succeed, to impress. From feeling like no matter how much I did, it was never enough.
Maybe I wasn’t failing. Maybe I just needed rest. Maybe I didn’t have to burn myself out to be worthy.
I don’t think I was ever lazy. I think I was just… human.
And maybe that should be enough.
Been thinking about this for a long time! so here it is! (sorry for the audio quality still trying to get used to this but yeah!)
PS. this is an old draft and i thought of sharing it I’m kind of tired
Until Next Time,
A Ikram
