Episode 37 - Dependence

(Music fades in)

  Welcome back to the podcast! And yeah, my good mood was somewhat short-lived. Things come and go, as the poets say. But I think they mean more circumstances than memories we wish to relive or see played out on the screen projector of our mind’s eye. As for the expression ‘as the poets say’ which is a phrase I’m surprised I never get any questions about. It’s an expression I read somewhere. I don’t remember where. And maybe it doesn’t belong to that specific text, whatever text that may be. But it serves to convey a point. It reminds us that there are sayings we did not come up with but have always been there, breathed into the word by the throats of those who seem to have a better grip on language than the rest of us ever will. But besides that, the poets can say whatever they want. Because they are poets, because they practice an art form we are not inclined to take seriously or as anything more than a momentary amusement, we overlook the expressions that might make us uncomfortable. Let the poets say that things come and go despite how vague that notion is or that there are so many things that should not be coming or going. They are just poets after all. They have no bearings on the world besides giving us a moment to feel whatever it is we are going to feel. 

And I wonder what the poets would say about me. I’m sure they would have a good time with it. I’m sure they would like to play with the imagery of a young woman confronted with aspects of herself that she does not like, what might genuinely be a true reflection of all that she is and rejecting it. Not because she hates it, not because she disagrees with the portrayal, but because this is how things must be for now. She does not wish to change them. She cannot wish that. There is no point to that. 

I tried to play with the imagery myself a time or two despite not being one of the many poets or anything of the sort. Maybe I could be considered a writer, but I find myself growing uncomfortable with the title. It is like a child wearing their parents' shoes. Perhaps the shoes will fit one day, and perhaps that will only be for a moment as the child quickly outgrows them. But in that moment, the moment in which you are gazing upon the child far too small for such a thing, the shoes don’t fit and only calls attention to what might come but has not arrived yet. 

I don’t think I can call myself a writer nor a poet. I am standing in shoes that are much too big and cannot be lifted just yet.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

King Ezin had his doubts about the arrangement, and said doubts flooded his mind whenever he sat on the throne beside his wife, staring out at the crowd of nobles. It was the sort of perspective that reminds him of all that has transpired more than it offered anything enlightening. The nobles would always stare at him with blank expressions, ready and willing to be the blank slates a king could use to his will. Or that was what they wanted the king to think. They each had their own loyalties and desires. Those would always come before the king, but such could never be said aloud. 

He had heard his father curse about the weight of the crown before, when King Ezin himself was merely a child and a prince. He had never believed it. His father’s lamentations rang hollow. Or that was how Ezin explained the echoing he thought he heard following those words. But now, he knew it was the agreement of the ancestors, repeating the sentiment in death just as they had in life. 

When Queen Evanora was beside him, he would think about reaching over and taking her hand, drawing whatever comfort might be found there. She was wise. She was powerful. She was his refuge, but with the small toddler on the verge of entering this world, her attention needed to be elsewhere. He could not rely on his queen. Not if it meant taking her from their daughter. 

King Ezin stared back out at the sea of emotionless faces. He looked out over them just as his father had done before him. Small moments of enlightenment would flash in his mind as perceived mistakes on his father’s part started to make more sense. Not everything he had done was irrational. It was all a matter of calculation. Lord Hicket had his flaws, but he served as an ally. There was power in that. A power that King Ezin suddenly found himself lacking. 

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

Hyper Independence. Have you heard of it? I had not before TikTok. And when you think about it, it… Okay, I won’t lie and say that anything about hyper independence makes sense to me. At least, when you just look at the words. I didn’t think independence could ever be a bad thing. If anything, it’s a virtue. It means you are able to take care of yourself, and you don’t have the same social needs other people do, which is fine. Everyone is going to be different. Everyone is going to need different things, and the fact that we can understand and acknowledge such a state of affairs that is a good thing. It means we aren’t going to pressure the people who genuinely want space to be alone. We are letting people be as they are. And there’s something beautiful about that, right?

But that isn’t what hyper independence is. That’s the fantasy I quickly conjured up about it when the term first popped up on my For You Page on TikTok. Because at first, I did not want to listen. I just quickly scrolled away. I had a gut feeling. And my gut feelings are usually pretty accurate. And I can’t say that this one wasn’t. 

Because, like I said, none of that is what hyper independence is. I am, though. I am hyper independent. 

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

Princess Eathebel was willing to come when her brother summoned her, but despite the delicate truce the two now found themselves in, she only did so out of obligation. The princess has to mind the king, as their mother used to say, but she did not have to be thrilled about it. And indeed, she was not. 

She had her reasons to remain guarded with him. It was what she had to do, for her own sake. His willingness to leave her unmarried had come abruptly. And he had provided no explanation for it. In the absence of explanations, distrust was able to fester and bloom into a difficult weed. Wane could not piece it together either, for all his skills and abilities. The court was certainly not on the princess’s side. Those who had sons wanted said sons married to her. Those who did not were still gleeful about gossiping behind her back. They had never come to respect her. That was the doing of the old king and queen. That was the sentiment they had planted and cultivated about their own daughter. For what purpose, there would be no understanding. She would not try. But there was nothing to be done about it now. Particularly if her brother would not help her. 

She walked through the court with her head held high, but she felt the pull of the courtier’s gossip weighing down on her neck. She refused to falter. She could not let them see her falter. It would only make her situation worse.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

Maybe I haven’t been formally labeled as such, but when you’re the sort of case that would be used as a model to demonstrate what something is, I think you might be able to skip the formalities fo a bit, especially when you aren’t in a position to change or to leave any sort of record of what caused said hyper independence. 

Hyper independence isn’t just too much of an otherwise good thing, I should add. Maybe it would be more bearable if it was. Like I’m not distressed by the knowledge that drinking too much water can be fatal. It’s not going to make me close out of and completely uninstall an app. This was different. Because hyper independence can be a trauma response. And I’m sure in saying that, there will be a temptation from some to dismiss what I’m saying because (quote) ‘everything is a trauma response’ (end quote) and if you have that view, you can click off this podcast right now. Unsubscribe or unfollow or whatever the language is in your app of choice . I’m not going to change your mind, and I don’t want to. 

People are going through life trying to learn what the world is like. And they are going to find or have inflicted upon them the worst parts of this world randomly and without warning. As a result, you are going to try to fortify yourself and adapt your behavior accordingly but not all adaptations are equal or non disruptive to other parts of your life. Sometimes, out of fear, you or your body or your mind can make things worse for yourself. Hyper independence is an example of this. A pretty good example, I say as I find myself recoiling from a world that I think asks too much of me. But it didn’t ask. I offered. I offered because it makes me feel safe and in control. 

I might be running into my own destruction, but frankly, I love that I can set the pace.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

Princess Eathebel tried to contain her shock. She had set her features in place, but King Ezin had caught her off guard. 

“I was never taught to rule,” she whispered. “Not like you were.”

“But you taught yourself,” he said. “In any event, a different perspective has value.”

He was not convincing. Not at all. The king was scrambling for an explanation, for some sort of justification for such a drastic change of course. He didn’t fully understand his new opinion either. But it was as if he did not have a choice. They were alone in his chambers, secluded behind fully shut doors and yet, he could hear the faint whispering of snakes beyond the doors. The telltale hiss told him that they were coming for him. Or rather, that they were more than willing to take him down if it benefited them in some way. And in the right light it would.

He needed his sister. There was no way around that.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

I couldn’t trust anyone growing up. I think I’ve said that before. And maybe even if I didn’t, it went without saying. It might go without saying because of everything else I’ve already mentioned. My family and I aren’t close. I didn’t think I could rely on them to have my back. We moved around a lot. I had Aishi, but that relationship wasn’t all that great. And when was the last time I mentioned them? Those on the Forum cared more about the Game and the Forum than anything else. The same could be said of the inhabitants of every website Aishi and I jumped to from those early internet days onward. And well, there was the GiftedDuckling. 

Maybe I disproved my own point by bringing her up. Or that’s what you were thinking I would say. But honestly, I think I was already too broken by the time I got to her. There was no fixing me by then. There was nothing the GiftedDuckling could have done for me. I’ve said that before, but it goes beyond what you might think. The GiftedDuckling was not in a place to save me, and I wouldn’t have let myself be saved. 

I still won’t let myself be saved. That’s what it means to be hyper independent. Or one of the things. This is the sort of flaw that affects big things and small things. I tend to only care about the big ones, though. The squeaky wheel gets the grease, as the poets would say.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

Queen Evanora had warned her ladies that she would have bouts of melancholy. It was her way, she said, and though they were concerned, the king would dismiss such things with a flick of his hand. 

“Look at the child,” he would say. “Do you see how she grows? Now look to the hills, can you see the queen’s home?” 

The ladies would still themselves at the king’s soft rebuke. He did not raise his voice with them, but the acknowledgement of all that they had not considered offered more than a bit of shame. And still, he would drill the point home.

“She has much to mourn or ruminate on. Let her have those moments. Let her be alone and busy yourself with your needlework.”

With that, the matter was ended. And the queen was free to do her work and mutter spells she did not fully understand, alone and safe behind closed doors. She was skilled with her magic, but magic is not the sort of thing that can be controlled. It always threatened to slip out of the wielder’s grasp. And once it was free, it would not be reclaimed again. 

Queen Evanora knew this, but she had not always known haste and fear and carelessness. Those were things she had learned in her husband’s court. But they were not conscious lessons. She did not know they were there in her mind and how they might twist the work of her hands.

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

To the young person who sent me an email the other day, I appreciate the offer, but you cannot help me either. Maybe I won’t let you. Or maybe you are approaching things far beyond your understanding. Likely both. 

(Extended - Music fades out and new music fades in)

The princess in her carelessness had not waited for the queen to summon her. Perhaps, the princess thought, the queen would not know to do so. The news was sudden. And Princes Eathebel did not understand that there were marriages where husbands and wives could freely speak to each other about their days and plans for the days. She simply knew that her sister-in-law would welcome her company as the young child ran through her mother’s chambers pulling things to the ground and scaring the ladies in waiting in new and novel ways. 

The small girl was becoming a bit of a terror, but it did not seem to bother the queen at all. Queen Evanora liked her child to be willed. 

“It’s good for all women,” she would say with a soft smile on her face. But then she would shift the conversation back to the news, back to the many royal appointments and titles the princess would now have. The texture of finely ground ash still lingered on the queen’s finger tips, a memory she would cherish considering all that the spell she had cast had managed to achieve. In no way, she thought, could it become a ghost, the spirit of the destruction that was to come. 

(Music gradually fades out)

Aishi Online is a production of Miscellany Media Studios. It is written, produced, performed, and edited by MJ Bailey with music from the Sounds like an Earful music supply. If you like the show, please leave a review, tell a friend, or donate to the show’s Ko-Fi account.