M is for Martyr

This is my quick and dirty on suppression. No I don’t mean oppression as in not being allowed to vote or get a formal education. Nor, do I mean repression as in memory inhibition like the unconscious exclusion of painful memories. I mean conscious suppression of your emotions, thoughts, and desires to make the people around you happy.

Having suffered the grave consequences of being too truthful in a world that can’t handle the truth very well, I’ve learned to be a bit more tactful in making my needs known. However, scientific studies (that I don’t have handy because I’m on my thirty-minute lunch break) have proven that voicing your very human need to be valued is beneficial to your relationship. Like, if your boyfriend called you before 9 pm most days, the conversations would be much more pleasant for both of you.

Listen, you are going to be called a name anyway. Right? I say, be a “B” with a birthday present that you really like, rather than a “M”–for martyr with no gift. Remember the suffragette, Emily Wilding Davison? Of course you don’t, bless her brave soul. She died for a good ’cause, but I’m suggesting you live out loud for a good cause. You’ll be a better mom, wife, employee, and friend if you simply speak your mind instead of waiting for someone to read it.

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