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Empathetic Consent

This poem traces the quiet collapse of someone who has kept going without pause,

without complaint, without asking for help.

What breaks them is not weakness, but loneliness—

the absence of a single place where their feelings could be received without judgment.

Here, empathetic consent is not a technique or a policy;

it is the simple, radical act of being met as one is.

 

Empathetic Consent

 

What I had been doing until now,

what I had done without ever stopping,

suddenly gave me pause—

is this really all right?

 

What I am doing now,

what I told myself could not be helped,

suddenly felt wrong—

this is not it.

 

What I would continue to do,

what I believed I was doing for someone else,

suddenly lost its certainty—

was this truly right?

 

Suddenly, I felt afraid.

Carrying it alone was too hard.

Bearing it alone was too heavy.

Alone, there was nothing I could do.

 

Suddenly, I wanted to throw it all away.

I was too young to be depended on.

Enduring it hurt too much.

I did not have the strength to see it through.

I did not even think to ask for help.

 

No one was going to help me—

that was what I believed.

What I had taken for granted,

what I told myself I had to do,

meant I had no choice but to do it alone.

 

I never thought I wanted someone to consult.

I never believed consulting would solve anything.

I never even thought to look for someone to consult.

 

Empathetic consent protects this child.

Empathetic consent gives this child strength.

An encounter where empathetic consent is given

is what saves this child.

 


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