Spilling the Tea

(air hissing) (mouse clicking) (gentle music) Headspace Studios. (gentle music continues) Hi friends, it's Rosie here. Welcome to "Radio Headspace." Last month, I was sitting across from someone I deeply care about, corner table, matcha in hand, just trying to act normal, but inside, my chest was tight. That familiar heat started rising up the back of my neck. You know that feeling when your body knows before your mouth catches up? I could feel it coming, the moment where everything shifts. I took a breath, lifted the mug to my lips, and as I set it down, it slipped just enough to spill green matcha across the table right next to my phone. We both jumped up, grabbing napkins and laughing a little too hard. And in my head I thought, "Of course. Of course this would happen right now," because I wasn't just cleaning up a spill, I was about to say something that had been sitting on my chest for months. I needed to tell her that she had just crossed a line, and I knew that once I said it out loud the dynamic between us might never be the same. (gentle music continues) See, the original boundary was set back in 2020 after the election, when so many of our conversations online and off were charged. Like a lot of people, I had to recalibrate my nervous system and rethink who I shared emotional bandwidth with. We'd been friends for over a decade, and even though we had different views, we genuinely valued each other. So I told her clearly I needed space from political debates, especially in group chats. I was trying to protect my peace, not pick a fight, so I muted it. I would occasionally see updates until one day I just left, and then a few months ago it happened again. She added me without asking to a group chat where people were sharing heated political takes I had zero, none, a minus desire to engage with. (gentle music continues) I quietly left the chat again, but then almost as if she'd been alerted, she re-added me. When I asked her to remove me, she said, "Oh, I thought you left by accident. I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt." And I wanted to say, "Girl, it wasn't an accident. I just don't wanna get activated by your other idiot friends." Okay, well, I didn't say that, of course, but I felt it. (gentle music continues) I let it go at the time. I told myself it wasn't worth bringing it up, but the truth, it stuck to me like static. This bothered me for weeks. I found myself ignoring her calls, taking longer to respond to her text messages and completely muting her on social media. When she sent word with her partner, I knew I couldn't keep burying my head in the sand, and I knew we needed to chat in person. So I asked her...