A Fence Destination
Find Your Words
Sometimes you know something matters long before you know how to say it.
A Trail Marker from Jenny
The Armor Was Heavy
It was a fun social gathering. Jenny wanted to be there. There were conversations she would have liked to join.
Imagine a knight arriving at a celebration in full armor. There is laughter and conversation all around, but the knight has come dressed in heavy metal, just in case.
And yet, around certain people, she caught herself waiting for a comment that might leave no room for someone's agency—for who they are, or who they want to become. She did not know what would be said. She only knew she was bracing.
So she reached into her Backpack and pulled out something familiar.
The armor.
She put it on again. And it was heavy.
And without quite noticing when it happened, her shield was up, too. Like that knight at the celebration, she was watching over the rim of it. When is it coming? When is it coming? When is it coming? Holding the shield up was work all by itself.
Holding herself calm while waiting for something to hit took energy. So did trying to imagine what she might say if it happened. She felt drained right there at the gathering. Eventually she did what had protected her before: she backed away from conversations.
The knight could not keep holding up that shield and join the celebration at the same time. So the knight retreated into a cave. Jenny found her own little cave at the edge of the gathering, away from the conversations, sometimes looking at her phone. It was somewhere to retreat when the armor and shield became too much to carry.
The gathering was still fun. But now she was watching some of it from the sidelines, missing conversations she wanted to enjoy. That was part of the weight, too.
It was the next day that Jenny recognized the picture: she had put her armor back on, held up her shield, and retreated to her cave when it became too heavy. Then another possibility occurred to her. What if she went in with just one sentence she could reach for? Not an entire book of perfect comebacks. Not a frantic search for page seventy-something while her brain announced that the language department was closed.
“I'm going to step away. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”
Something ordinary. Something that sounded like her. An exit she would know was available, even while she was enjoying a conversation.
And if the ordinary words refused to report for duty?
“Look! Squirrel!”
Turn. Leave. 😂
Little Jenny would have accepted that escape hatch. She could have used it that day. A simple goodbye might be her first choice, but if the squirrel is the only thing within reach, she is allowed to use it and get out.
She has not been to the next gathering yet. She does not know whether having a sentence ready will change anything. But she likes the possibility of joining in without spending quite so much energy holding up the armor.
Maybe a few words within reach could leave a little more energy for being there.
A Little Borrowed Belief
Words You Can Reach Without Rummaging
You do not need a perfect explanation before you can choose to leave. An ordinary sentence can be enough. And if ordinary is out of reach, you still get to go.
“I need to step away.”
“I'm going to head out. Take care.”
“I don't have the words right now.”
“Look! Squirrel!” 🐿️
Borrow one, change every word, invent your own—or keep the squirrel. This is not a test of how gracefully you can exit.
Through Your Lens
What Does the Armor Cost You?
Jenny's armor was familiar. It helped her step away. It also used energy she wished she could have spent enjoying the gathering.
Have I ever felt myself bracing for something that had not happened yet?
What does that waiting cost me?
Are there words I might like to have nearby—or would leaving without words fit me better?
What might I have more room to enjoy if I knew I could step away?
Your answers may look nothing like Jenny's. You might keep the armor, find another tool, or discover that today is not a day for this conversation. Your Backpack, your words, your choice.
If you want to wander through the bigger idea of peace, release, and the words we carry, the Go Fly a Kite Everyday Adventure is waiting.
Words Missing
Your Brain Has Declined to Provide a Script
You know you need something.
Space, maybe. Help. A pause. A different plan. You would very much like to communicate this like a calm and articulate human.
Unfortunately, your words appear to have left the building.
When you are exhausted, frightened, hurt, angry, overwhelmed, or spinning, inventing perfect language on demand can be a lot to ask.
You do not have to find perfect words. You are looking for words that are usable and true enough for you.
You can borrow some while you find yours:
“I need some time before I answer.”
“I want to keep talking, but I need a break first.”
“I can't take that on today.”
“I need help.”
“I don't know what I need yet. I need time to figure it out.”
“I need a Sunny Spot.”
Try them on. Change them. Throw them back. Your words eventually belong to you.
Low-Stakes Practice
Teach the Words Where to Live Before the Crocodiles Escape
Practice when nothing dramatic is happening.
Say the sentence in the Mirror. Write it down. Make it ridiculous enough that your family remembers it.
“My crocodiles are coming out of the moat. I need some space.”
If everybody knows what that means, a ridiculous sentence can carry useful information before reactivity has to do all of the communicating.
A kid might invent completely different language. Excellent. A partner might prefer a simple phrase. Also excellent.
You can lend words. The Traveler decides what becomes theirs.
When the Carrying Is the Conversation
Make the Load Visible Without Writing Someone Else's Story
Sometimes what you are trying to say is not “stop.” It is “I cannot keep carrying this in the same way.”
That can be hard to say without accidentally turning your experience into a verdict about somebody else.
Instead of beginning with what another person never does, does not notice, or should care about, you can begin in your own Mirror.
“I think I'm carrying more than I have room for right now.”
“I've been doing this automatically, and I don't think either of us noticed that it became mine.”
“This matters to me. I know it may matter differently to you.”
“I need us to look at what we're each carrying.”
“I can carry more for these few weeks, but I need some space to recover too.”
“I didn't notice you were doing that until it stopped happening. Now I see it.”
“What are you carrying that I may not be seeing?”
Making the invisible visible can open a conversation without deciding in advance what the other person's Mirror contains.
Another Route for the Words
Meet the Sassy Gram
Speaking is not the only way words can travel.
Sometimes you care very much about the conversation and still cannot have it well in real time.
You may need to write first.
A Sassy Gram can say: “This matters. I want to communicate. I need my words to travel another way first.”
Write a note. Send a message. Draw something. Circle a phrase. Leave enough information for the other person to know that the Gate is not necessarily closed forever—you may simply need space before you can come back to it.
“My words aren't working right now. I want to come back to this.”
“I need time to think before we talk.”
“This is hard for me to say out loud, so I'm writing first.”
“I care about this conversation. I need a pause before I can have it well.”
The Sassy Gram is not a rule and it is not a requirement to avoid speaking. It is simply another possible route.
A Trail Marker from Jenny
Same People. Different Tools.
Early in Jenny and Dan's life together, conflict could turn into a Brick Wall before Jenny even understood that was what was happening.
Dan would try to talk. Jenny's brain would spin faster. She could not figure out what to say, whether the words would start a fight, whether they would hurt, or where a sentence was even supposed to begin.
Looking back, she can see something she could not name then:
I needed space before I could hear.
Years later, another difficult conversation arrived.
This time Jenny knew that trying to force the conversation immediately could leave her overwhelmed for the rest of the day. So she wrote Dan a note first—a Sassy Gram before it had a name.
Dan had time to read it and think. Jenny had time to settle and find her footing. Then they came back together.
The note did not replace the conversation.
It helped create the conditions for a different conversation.
Same two people. Same desire to understand each other. More tools available.
That is Becoming.
Your Backpack
Keep the Words That Sound Like You
Eventually the Sassiverse Backpack can hold phrases you create so the Labs can offer your own words back when you need them.
For now, save them somewhere you can find them. Mirror. Journal. Phone. Gold Journal. A ridiculous crocodile card. A kite card that makes you laugh.
My words: ______________________________
When I might use them: ______________________________
When the next choice appears, you do not have to begin with a blank page.
If the Words Aren't the First Problem
Are You Free-Falling?
If your brain is spinning so hard that you cannot receive the conversation at all, finding better words may not be the first thing you need.
You may need to pull the Parachute and land first. Leaving the conversation can be part of pulling it.
🪂 Visit the Parachute