Hey guys, it’s Tina. Pull up a chair, grab a snack (I’m currently three cookies deep into a “health kick”), and let’s have a little heart-to-heart about something I recently realized is my unofficial superpower/major character flaw.
The “Benefit of the Doubt” Olympics
You know those people who can just… walk away? Like, they have a minor disagreement with someone and they’re just like, “Cool, have a nice life, I’m blocking you on LinkedIn”? Yeah, I am not those people. I don’t have an “off” switch; I have a “maybe if I just try one more time” switch that is currently jammed in the ‘on’ position with a piece of gum.
I call this my Toxic Trait. I will keep trying, and trying, and trying again. If there were an Olympic event for “Giving People the Benefit of the Doubt Until You’re Blue in the Face,” I’d be standing on that podium with a gold medal and a very tired expression.
The Specialized Investigator
When I care about someone, I become a specialized investigator. I’m out here looking for reasons to stay like I’m searching for a contact lens on a shaggy carpet.
- “Oh, they didn’t text back for three days? They probably dropped their phone in a canyon.”
- “They were rude? They must be having a ‘retrograde’ kind of day. We’ve all been there.”
- “They forgot my birthday? Time is a social construct, anyway!”
I will give 110%, even when the other person is barely giving me a “read” receipt. It’s exhausting, right? But I do it because I have this deep-seated problem with “quitting” on people. I feel like if I just find the right words, or the right gesture, or the right amount of patience, everything will click back into place.
The 1% Cliff and the Rubber Band Snap
But here’s the kicker. And this is the part where my friends usually start nodding their heads because they’ve seen the “Tina Transformation.”
While I might be the world’s most patient human for 99% of the journey, that last 1% is a cliff.
The Physics of the Snap
I’m like a rubber band. You can stretch me, and stretch me, and I’ll keep holding on, providing tension, trying to keep everything together. But eventually, the physics just stop physicking. SNAP.
When I finally reach the point of “I’m done,” it’s not a dramatic exit with a slammed door and a monologue. It’s actually much scarier. It’s… quiet. It’s the sound of a lightbulb burning out. One minute I’m fighting for the relationship with everything I’ve got, and the next? I’ve checked out. I’ve packed my emotional bags, called the Uber, and I’m already halfway to the airport.
When I Quit, I Really QUIT
This is the part people don’t expect. Because I tried so hard for so long, by the time I actually leave, I have zero regrets left. I’ve already mourned the relationship while I was still in it. I’ve already exhausted every “what if” and “maybe.”
The Tina Rule
Tina Rule: Once I decide I’m finished, there is no “coming back” from that. There’s no sequel. There’s no “remastered edition.” The credits have rolled, the theater lights are on, and I’m already outside looking for tacos.
It sounds harsh, I know. But it’s actually the only way I know how to protect my peace. I give you everything until I have nothing left to give, and once the tank is empty? The car doesn’t move.
Loyal to a Fault
I know I’m not alone in this. There are plenty of us out there who are “Loyal to a Fault” until we hit that invisible line in the sand. We are the ones who will stay in the burning building trying to save the furniture, but once we finally step outside, we aren’t going back in for a toothpick.
It’s a weird way to live—being both the most stubborn person in the world and the most final. But hey, at least when I say “I’m here for you,” you know I mean it… right up until the very second that I don’t.
So, tell me—are you a “Glue Stick” like me, or are you one of those legendary people who can cut ties at the first red flag? (Teach me your ways!)