Batshit Crazy
Some People Leave No Room for You... And Call It Normal.
Dear Permission to Be Powerful reader,
I went on a date.
Before it even started, I told her:
“I feel nervous.”
That was enough.
She stormed out.
Canceled immediately.
And just like that, the whole thing collapsed.
Not after a fight…
Or anything dramatic.
Just… the presence of a need.
At first, you want to explain it away.
Maybe she’s guarded.
Maybe she’s not that invested yet.
But then you look at the pattern.
Every time I wanted anything at all…
The answer was always no.
Even when it was small.
It was as if there was an unspoken condition from the start:
I was supposed to show up with no needs.
No friction. No weight. No interior life.
Just usefulness.
And the moment that wasn’t true?
Everything shut down.
I’ve seen selfish before.
I’ve dated selfish.
I’ve been married to selfish.
Even then, there was at least a flicker of recognition.
A moment where someone looks at you and asks:
“What’s wrong?”
Here?
Nothing.
Not once.
No questions.
No pause.
No adjustment.
Just a steady, unbroken focus on herself.
You don’t need deep emotional support on a first date.
But you do need something.
A flicker.
That’s the floor.
And when it’s not there, something becomes very clear:
For this to work… you have to disappear.
Become wantless…
Needless…
Invisible.
One minute, you’re abandoning yourself in seemingly harmless ways.
The next, the other person has taken over your life.
Because from the outside, it doesn’t look extreme.
She can seem:
Soft
Kind
Attentive… to other people
I’ve seen her across the room. Watching me. Smiling. Warm.
From a distance, it looks completely normal.
But up close?
There’s no space for you.
The mechanism is simple.
Your needs don’t register as:
“This person matters.”
They register as:
“This is getting in the way.”
Not consciously. Not maliciously.
Just… structurally.
So something as small as:
“I feel nervous.”
isn’t received as connection.
It’s received as friction.
And the interaction ends.
I could have played along.
I know how.
Be easy.
Be useful.
Don’t ask for anything.
Be grateful for whatever I get.
Stay light.
Stay accommodating.
Never shift the focus.
And yeah—
I could’ve had her.
But I know what that gets you.
Crumbs.
Just enough to stay.
And in exchange, you give up something slowly:
yourself.
You abandon yourself just by being in the dynamic at all.
Some people insist on it.
I’ve lived that.
To the point where I lost entire years of my life.
To the point where therapists told me:
“That wasn’t a relationship. You were completely subjugated.”
I moved countries.
Disappeared.
Built my life around someone who had no room for me.
So when I see the pattern now—
I don’t debate it.
I recognize it.
My body rejects it before my mind gets to have a say.
Before I get tempted to go back to the familiar.
There was a pull.
There always is.
She reminded me of someone I once loved deeply.
Someone who treated me with quiet contempt.
And my body still remembers that.
But I don’t follow it anymore.
So I didn’t chase.
I didn’t escalate.
I didn’t perform.
I gave her nothing.
Not out of spite.
Out of recognition.
Because the real decision isn’t:
“Is this person good or bad?”
It’s:
What version of me does this dynamic require?
And I’m not becoming that person again.
Now, to be clear—
This is my interpretation.
She’s not here to explain herself.
But I’ve spent years studying my own life closely.
Because I had to.
I lived in a world where people took from me constantly—and I didn’t even see it.
Waking up from that changes how you see everything.
These dynamics aren’t rare.
They’re just quiet.
Most people stay.
They justify it.
They hope.
They wait for something to shift.
It doesn’t.
Tony
Editor-in-Chief
Permission to be Powerful
