The Tomato & The Flat Sheet
How I Slowly Lost Myself (and How I Took Me Back)
I didn’t notice the fade at first.
The erosion was slow—quiet enough to pass for harmony, gentle enough to feel like love—until a tomato and a flat sheet exposed the truth: I had been folding myself smaller every day.
🍅 The Tomato – A Snapshot of Who I Was
The tomato wasn’t just produce; it was a portal.
I remember sitting at my grandmother’s kitchen table, a plate of sliced tomatoes between us, seasoned with Morton’s Season-All and a dash of Accent. We’d laugh, snack, and share pieces of the day in that simple ritual. Cooking with tomatoes tasted like childhood safety, generational wisdom, and the confidence of being loved without conditions.
Yet the day came when I stood in my own kitchen cutting a tomato for someone who hated them.
My taste buds weren’t invited to dinner; my memories didn’t get a seat. That single tomato—once a symbol of joy—became a mirror showing how easily I’d canceled myself.
🛏️ The Flat Sheet – Where Intimacy Got Negotiated Away
I sleep best tucked under a flat sheet with a blanket on top—layers smooth, corners tight, body wrapped in comfort.
He never slid beneath that sheet—only the blanket.
Night after night I ditched the flat sheet so I could slide closer, hoping his arms would open if the barrier disappeared.
The sheet disappeared—but the distance didn’t.
After a while, when I reached out, he rarely reached back.
The compromise meant to bring us closer became another place I disappeared.
💥 Impact Lesson
When you keep deleting tiny details that make you you, you don’t create peace—you create an empty outline others can color in.
Self-betrayal never buys real closeness; it only rents a performance space where the heart sits in the nose-bleed section.
🔍 Questions I Should Have Asked Myself Sooner
Which childhood joy or comfort have "I" muted just to keep someone else comfortable?
What daily habit once felt like me but vanished under another person’s preference?
What’s one way I have been hiding, shrinking, or pausing myself in my own life—and why?
When was the last decision I made simply because it delighted me?
⚠️ Pitfalls to Watch For
“It’s only a small thing.”
Small things stacked together can bury a life.Chronic compromise.
If one person is always adjusting, that isn’t balance—it’s self-erasure in slow motion.Emotional debt.
Giving and giving while promising a future payback that never posts.Performing peace.
Keeping external calm while the internal world riot‑whispers, “This isn’t working.”
🛠️ Steps to Grow With Me
Write the “Why Not” list.
Name every activity, flavor, song, or comfort you dropped to survive love—and note why it was let go.Reintroduce one joy per week.
Eat the tomato with Season All and Accent.
Snuggle under the flat sheet. Reclaim sensory proof that you matter.Speak the yes out loud.
Practice saying, “I want this,” until your voice no longer trembles.Choose one boundary to lock.
Pick a space where bending has been the norm and—this week—don’t.Document the return.
Journal, record voice notes, snap photos. Watch yourself come back into frame.
💜 Closing Reflection
You don’t owe anyone a version of yourself that leaves you hollow.
The woman who shows up for everyone else is worthy of showing up for herself, too.
The comeback starts with a single courageous choice.
Let the tomato and the flat sheet remind you:
You’re allowed to take you back—one empowered choice at a time.
With love + lipstick stains,
Tavon 💄