Romina Tejeiro Calgan

This year it’s kind of iconic that my unemployment era overlaps with International Workers’ Day.

And Nathalie was like:
what if we just replace the word “unemployed” with “famous”?

So I’m currently referring to the whole situation as my Famousness.
It’s all about mindset, babe.

But jokes aside:
I’m only now realizing how deeply this constant need to function is rooted in me.

This feeling that I always have to be productive.
Useful.
Resilient.
Performing.
Even when my body and nervous system are literally begging me to stop.

Maybe because I never learned anything else.
I’ve been working since I was 16.
And I grew up watching my parents work themselves into the ground until their bodies eventually couldn’t do it anymore.

And somehow rest still feels wrong to me sometimes.
Because in this society, worth is so deeply tied to productivity.

And honestly?
How delulu is it that we’ve normalized this?

People look at you weird if you hug a tree or stretch on the train to feel present in your body again.
But it’s considered completely normal to say you went to work with debilitating pain, took two painkillers, dissociated a little, and kept pushing through.

We’ve normalized functioning to such an extent that care now feels more rebellious than self-destruction.

And at the same time, I know it’s a privilege to even pause long enough to think about any of this.
A lot of people can’t afford rest.
A lot of working class parents gave everything -including their health and their bodies- hoping their children might one day get to live a softer life.

Maybe part of healing is allowing ourselves to actually live that softer life.
Without guilt.
Without proving we deserve it first.

So I think that’s what I’m trying to learn right now:
that my body is not a machine.
that rest is not failure.
and that I do not have to earn my dignity through exhaustion.

Anyway.
Happy International Workers’ Day to my nervous system.

She is entering her famous era.
And honestly?
She deserves it.