Looking back over more than five decades, I see how often I was afraid to fold losing hands — and ashamed of my actions and what I saw as failure.
Then I ripped off my mouth muffler, and I prayed that sharing my untold, ugly truths might give you hope — and the energy to start healing.
Because if you’ve ever felt stuck at a table you didn’t choose, I’ve been there, too.
Maybe you’re there now.
You're feeling it. Knowing something’s off — even if you can’t quite identify why.
You’ve made bold moves.
Folded when you had to.
And stayed in my hands longer than made sense because, at the time, staying felt safer than folding.
When Doing What You’re “Supposed To” Silences Who You Are
That was me.
Long, long ago, I didn’t know how to trust my own voice — let alone follow it.
So I did what “good girls” were supposed to do.
I married the first man who forcefully took something from me I couldn’t get back — my virginity.
It certainly wasn’t love. It wasn’t even a partnership or friendship.
It was a reaction — a way to make something “right,” to heal a wound beyond repair.
From that moment forward, I walked a path full of reactive choices — one after another — thinking it was the only way to survive and still keep some semblance of dignity intact.
I jumped into an “obligatory minority affair,” but I’ll save the color and chaos of that situation for another time.
Eventually, I found myself homeless.
When Kindness Feels Like Safety — Even When It’s Not
Then I married the next man who was kind to me.
Not because of compatibility. Or safety.
Just someone who saw me and didn’t hurt me — not at first, anyway.
When he said, “Go earn us some money,” I did what he commanded.
Even when that meant stepping into a role I never imagined for myself — as a prostitute.
Not because I was weak.
Not because I lacked ambition or intelligence.
But because I believed I had no other cards to play.
And I stayed in that hand despite losing pieces of me.
I thought folding meant failure. If I walked away, it meant I was giving up — or giving in.
The Lie I Believed About Leaving
But here’s what I know now and what I wish someone had told me then:
Folding isn’t failure. Folding can be freedom.
It seemed like it took me forever to break free from emotional pain and humiliation and to realize I wasn’t trapped.
I didn’t believe I had the right to say “no more.”
That’s what a reactive mindset does.
It convinces you there’s only one logical move left, which usually involves disappearing — or hiding — for peace, safety, survival, or someone else’s comfort.
But here’s where everything started to shift for me.
Not by a lightning bolt or some grand revelation.
Just a quiet, thoughtful question that floated into my mind:
“Hmm… isn’t that interesting?”
When One Thought Changes Everything
That’s all.
A pause. A breath. A moment where I saw myself from a slightly different perspective.
Not as broken. Not as a victim.
Just as a woman holding cards, she no longer wanted to play.
That simple phrase cracked the door open — just enough for me to see I still had choices.
It didn’t all change overnight.
But that moment planted a seed. And once I was there, I couldn’t unsee it.
Eventually, I walked away.
From the relationship.
From the way I thought I had to perform just to be accepted.
From the version of me who thought silence was strength and obedience was love.
It wasn’t easy. But I did it.
And that’s what I want for you.
Because maybe — just maybe — you’re still sitting at a table where you don’t belong.
Maybe you’re holding onto something that’s already costing you too much.
A job.
A role.
A relationship.
A belief you keep feeding because letting go feels too risky or you fear it will confirm you are worthless.
Maybe you’re the strong one everyone leans on — but you’re quietly drowning.
Or you're the accomplished one with a full life housed in an empty shell — with a hole in your soul no one else sees.
You Still Get to Choose How You Play
You don’t have to stay.
You don’t have to keep playing a hand that continues draining your joy — or stay at a table where you know you don’t belong.
You don’t have to prove your worth by enduring more pain.
Sometimes, the boldest thing you can do is stand up, push in your chair, and whisper, “I’m done.”
Or scream it.
Because, you don’t control the cards life deals you — but you do control how you play them.
Regardless of your stage of life, it’s never too late to realign your thinking.
To claim your seat at a different table.
If you're reading this or hearing my voice, know you still have a stack of chips. You still have time, and I’m right here when you’re ready.
You’re not out of the game. Not even close.
You're still in it to win, and that I know for sure.
So let me ask you…
What hand are you holding right now — that you keep wishing you had folded?
Let me know in the comments. I’d love to respond.
Because you are not alone.
— Donna, The MindShift Mechanic
When you’re ready to shift, I’ll be right here — on your shoulder — just a thought away.
