The Pocket That Never Came

Metaphorical Narrative

The burned dress sat waiting. My young self imagined a pocket stitched over the scar, a small miracle to make it whole again. I asked. Then asked again. The answer was never “no” — it was silence.

Days passed. Silence stretched into weeks. The pocket never came.

In my body, delay became denial. Delay became neglect. Every unanswered day deepened the unfairness. My young self learned: if you ask, it doesn’t matter. If you don’t ask, you just sit in sadness.

The dress was gone long ago. But the loop still lives in me.

Core Insight

Delay became wired as danger. A pause felt like rejection. A wait felt like abandonment. That’s why even now, any delay can stir up that anxious, visceral loss.

The truth is: delay itself is neutral. But the body, shaped by neglect, reads it as threat. It replays the old script: “You’re forgotten. Your needs don’t matter. You’ll never get what you asked for.”

Yet delay is not always denial. Sometimes it’s timing, limits, or life itself. The wound came not from waiting — but from never being acknowledged. That’s the loss you carried.

And the power now? To reclaim delay as a space where you choose the meaning.

Saturday Experiment

Next time you feel the sting of delay, try this:

1. Pause. Name it. Whisper: “This is the pocket-that-never-came memory, not this moment.”
2. Flip the script. Instead of delay = neglect, try delay = choice. Ask: what can I do in this waiting space that is for me?
3. Acknowledge yourself. Put your hand on your chest and say: “I hear you. Your need matters. You are not forgotten.”

Sunday Reflection

When delay feels unbearable, what story is your body replaying?

What would change if delay became a signal of freedom — your power to choose what to do, instead of proof you don’t matter?

If your younger self could see you holding them steady through the wait, what would they feel?