I am tired of Presumptuous People. So this year, I say no.

With a new year comes reflection. Not the glossy, perfect kind, but the honest, sometimes uncomfortable kind. The kind that makes you look at patterns you’ve repeated and mistakes you’re no longer willing to make.

Last year, once again, I did something I have done too many times before: I was too kind, too giving, too ready to help. I offered support, guidance, and care, and in return, I was fed to the wolves, so to speak. I am tired of manipulative people.

I am constantly baffled by how some people speak about themselves. People who, in reality, are not working or earning an income, living off the state or supported by partners, yet presenting themselves as superior, untouchable, almost untouchably clever. People who intellectualize themselves to the point of seeming in love with their own reflection. Last year, I met a few of these individuals. Again. People who made me feel inadequate. Less worthy. People who put me down publicly, confidently, unapologetically, as if their loud voices automatically carried more value than mine. One person even genuinely believed they were a celebrity-level, superior being. Experiencing that is surreal, and exhausting.

I’ve always been very shy about showcasing myself. Anxiety has been a constant companion my whole life. It has led me into situations where I accepted more than I should, which in turn made me lose myself, made me feel unworthy, sometimes even useless. I have not been the person shouting the loudest when winning awards or achieving something meaningful. I let my accomplishments go quietly, almost afraid if anyone were to notice them.  (Yes, I know it sounds strange. Being an artist means constantly putting myself out there, often into the wolves. So how does that fit with being agoraphobic? Honestly… it’s complicated.)  The truth is, it doesn’t exactly “fit.” Being agoraphobic and having a public-facing life as an artist are often in direct conflict. For a long time, it meant pushing myself beyond my comfort zone in ways that were exhausting and scary. But I realized that if I stayed hidden, I would never grow, I would never share my work, and I would never fully claim my voice. So I learned to take it one step at a time, exposure, support from friends, and small risks that slowly built confidence. It’s still hard, but it’s worth it. 

So, a few years ago, I woke up. I realized one never knows how much time we have on this earth. I decided to confront my insecurities and anxiety head-on, through exposure. To put myself out there fully, publicly, painfully even. And yes, it has been hard, so hard at times that it hurt. But with the support, smiles, and cheers of good friends, and new ones, I’ve learned to become slightly more confident, slightly more okay in my own skin.

Which is why I am still so amazed, and sometimes incredulous at the opposites of me. Those who seem to have won the lottery of confidence, who seem almost inherently superior to the rest of us. People who assume their voice is louder, more valuable, more deserving. And yet, their loudness doesn’t make them wiser, kinder, or better.

So this year, I will not:

• Diminish myself to make others feel bigger.
• Stay quiet while being spoken over, belittled, or used.
• Give endlessly to people who take without reflection.
• Confuse arrogance with authority or self-promotion with depth.

This year is about boundaries. About self-respect. About trusting my own voice even when it’s quieter, even when it’s less performative. About acknowledging my worth and refusing to let others overshadow it.

And I hope this year you will do the same for yourself: take care of your energy, speak up, and claim the space you deserve. 

Happy New Year.

 I’m done being fed to the wolves. And so should you.

-T.Winther