Fuck You. And I’m Not Leaving You.

It came from my mentor John, and his partner Dorothy. They were telling me about a fight.

One of them had said:

“Fuck you. And I’m not leaving you.”

It landed like a punch and a promise.

It cut through the noise. Made things clear.

People in relationships hide.

They punish with silence.

They swallow offenses.

And build resentments.

This was honest.

A stance.

No retreat. No bluff.

Just truth.

Since then, I’ve carried it with me.

In therapy.

In love.

In moments when it matters.

Not always the words. Well, sometimes the words.

But the posture.

The presence.

“Fuck you. And I’m not leaving you.”

Isn’t cruelty.

It’s clarity.

It’s love that doesn’t flinch.

So, why do most people hide from it?

John Bowlby, who gave us attachment theory gave us the answer.

He said we come into the world asking two questions:

One: “What is this place? Is it safe?”

Two: “Can I trust these giants?”

So we put the world and the people in it to the test.

When we are in need we cry.

We lift our arms.

We say, without words: pick me up.

If someone does, we learn the world can be trusted.

If they don’t, we adapt.

We shut down. Or we beg.

We become self-sufficient as a fuck you to the world.

Or, we cling, and please, to guarantee ourselves that we will not be alone.

Those early experiences stick.

Follows us into love.

Into silence.

They become every false "I don't care what people think" and “I’m fine”.

—

If no one picked you up, fear follows you.

You fear saying “fuck you” because they might leave.

You fear hearing it because it might mean you’re not enough.

Not worthy enough for their love.

So you stay quiet.

You stay nice.

You stay small.

Or you rage.

You threaten.

You bluff.

You present a false narcissistic pose that hides your terror

And, it is terror.

The terror of a child in the woods at night.

A child who learned that the world is a dangerous place.

And, the people in it are not going to help you.

And that fear repeats.

Over and over.

For years.

For the rest of your life.

But some of us find a way back from the terror.

We find a mentor.

A new parent who will correct the emotional experience that the child did not get.

Together we do the work.

We meet the terrified child inside.

Over and over again.

When they reach we pick them up.

The new mentor, the new parent picks him up.

And, the adult we, the being that we have become picks them up.

We say: That was then.

This is now.

I’ve got you.

And through repetition, rejection is substituted with the experience of being picked up.

And We grow strong.

We stop running.

We stop flinching.

We carry our pain.

And some of us are called to carry others’.

We pick up the children inside us.

The children we bring into the world.

And, the grown-ups who don’t know they’re still reaching.

And we parent them:

Sometimes with Fuck you, and Im not leaving you—I will never leave you.

“Fuck you” means I see you.

I’m not pretending.

I’m not disappearing.

And, Im not taking your shit.

I will give you the gift of protective boundaries.

“I’m not leaving you” means I’m strong.

Strong enough to stay.

Strong enough to witness.

I’m not afraid of your dysfunction.

“Fuck you, and I’m not leaving you” isn’t polite.

It isn’t soft.

It isn’t safe.

But it’s real.

It’s clean.

It’s solid.

It doesn’t blink.

—

Bowlby said trauma isn’t just pain.

Pain is human.

We were built for it.

Trauma is pain with no one there.

We break when no one stays.

We heal when someone does.

“Fuck you” is an affirmation of worth.

“I’m not leaving you” is the ground of power of a full human.