It’s important to know when you need space and to take it. You need to know when you’ve reached your limits. You need to recognize when your cup is empty and you need a refill. And sometimes that refill is for you and only you.
I need space. I want to relinquish my roles, responsibilities, and titles. I don’t want to answer anyone about anything. “I don’t know and I don’t care.” I would love to say that. “Figure it out yourself or get someone else” sounds good, too. I’d like to tell the inconsiderate people to buzz off. Buzz is not the word I want to use. Yes. I need space.
I need space before I have a meltdown, a blow up. I need space before I have some sort of physical malfunction. I need space before I become totally depressed. I need space. I need space. I need space.
I need to be called, ma’am or Queen. I need to be told, “Our pleasure” and not by Chick-fil-A. I need room service. I need spa services. I “DARN” sure need to be chauffeured everywhere. I need a live band. I need turn down services. I need to be asked, “Is there anything else we can do for you?”. I need the arts. I need to be prayed over in an ancestorial spiritual kind of way. And when I return, I return with bolder boundaries, consequences, rules, and regulations about how NICOLE will be treated from here on out.
I need space and I am going to take it. I am going to take it in a grand way.