There is always a reason for exclusion

There is always a reason. There was always a reason why I’m missing from the picture. Why I am not part of it.

“I thought someone else had invited you.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to come.”

“I was protecting you from XYZ person”

“Don’t be silly, you never need an invite”

There was always an explanation for why I was excluded. But no room for what it felt like. I had to carry that alone.

And after enough of these moments, I stopped seeing the exclusion as something that happened to me. I started seeing it as evidence of who I was. Someone who wasn’t important enough to be remembered. Someone who wasn’t wanted enough to ask. Eventually, I started testing this. Testing whether it was true, but secretly hoping someone would disprove me.

I would isolate. Would anyone notice? Would someone message me? “Hey, we missed you today. Where were you?”

Nothing.

Days became months. Months became years.

And I became familiar with being out of sight, out of mind, and out of hearts.