Author Honey Badger

Honest about what your body can carry. Honest about what never belonged to you. Honest about the cost of continuing to say yes when your system is already in protest

It comes from knowing exactly what happens when limits are not honored. I did not wake up one day deciding to close doors. I learned where leaving them open led.

This is what people miss when they treat generosity as limitless. They see what is offered and assume it comes from nowhere. They do not see what it takes, what it requires, or what it changes. I know the cost of care because I have paid it.

Some people move through the world assuming that certain bodies exist to be drawn from. That if someone is capable, thoughtful, or generous, they should remain permanently available. They approach people the way corporations approach land: extract first, justify later.

So when care turns into labor, many women blame themselves for feeling tired, resentful, or angry—rather than questioning the expectation itself.

Some people mistake proximity for permission. They believe that shared history, family ties, professional roles, or emotional familiarity entitle them to continued access. They don’t ask. They assume.

They mistake openness for access. They confuse kindness with obligation. That confusion is not innocent.

I am an independent woman. I manage my own medications. I take myself to my own medical appointments. I live with chronic pain and autoimmune disease — and I take responsibility for myself every day. I do not need grown men outsourcing adulthood to women and calling it “care.”

Not because it is cruel—but because it closes the door cleanly. There is no hinge left open for persuasion, bargaining, or reinterpretation.

For many of us, performance once kept us safe. If you were strong enough, useful enough, agreeable enough, maybe harm would stop. Maybe access would remain. Maybe belonging would be secured. Over time, that performance became mistaken for character.

Kindness that has no edges becomes availability. Availability becomes expectation. Expectation becomes entitlement. When kindness is asked to absorb discomfort, confusion, or dissatisfaction indefinitely, it ceases to be care. It becomes compliance. Firmness is what allows kindness to remain intact.

There comes a point when explanation stops being communication and starts being erosion. I have passed that point. For a long time, I believed clarity required elaboration. That if I explained myself well enough—carefully enough, gently enough—my boundaries would be understood and respected. That belief was incorrect.

In a culture that treats resonance as entitlement, this is a difficult truth to hold. We are taught that if something moves us, we should capture it, share it, apply it, reproduce it. That meaning is only proven through use.

Creative work is not inert material. It carries intention, labor, memory, and nervous system imprint. When you encounter a piece of writing, sound, or art, you are entering a relationship—however brief. Ethical engagement begins with acknowledging that relationship exists. Relationship requires care. Care means noticing when curiosity turns into consumption. It means pausing before reuse, adaptation, or repetition. It means recognizing that impact matters more

A gift is voluntary. A gift does not come with pressure, urgency, or implied debt. When I give freely, it is because I choose to—not because I am convinced that saying no would make me ungrateful, difficult, or invisible. My work already exists. It does not need to be justified through depletion.

Art is not neutral. It carries nervous systems, lived experience, and meaning that did not arise in a vacuum. When someone engages with a piece of work—reading it, sharing it, teaching from it, performing it, monetizing it—they are entering a relationship. Consent applies to that relationship.

It can take years for a woman veteran to reclaim even a fragment of pride after military sexual trauma and institutional betrayal. Some send their medals away. Some stop identifying as veterans. Some never speak of their service again. When a dismissive comment destroys what little pride remains, it is not because that pride was weak. It is because it was never protected.

A person wearing a knee brace for support, gently massaging the joint to alleviate pain and provide comfort. Before you begin Sit or lie down in a position that feels neutral , not “proper.” Your knee can be bent or straight. If it helps, place a pillow, towel, or blanket under or around the knee. If touch feels okay, rest one or both hands on or near  the knee. If not, let your hands rest elsewhere. Nothing else is required. Minute 1–2: Arriving without demand Gently notice

I am no longer available to be the container for family systems that do not account for my safety, my health, or my history. When my body says no—through pain, exhaustion, or activation—it is not asking to be overridden. It is asking to be believed.

That if you want relief, you must reveal. That if you want support, you must show your wounds. That if you want to be believed, you must be seen in pain