the joy of being unnecessary

Let me see if I can say this the way I experience it, feel it -- the way it made me laugh out loud when the realization came a few moments ago, when it struck and spread throughout my being.

I am not necessary for other people's melodramas. Others' stories they tell themselves, in which of course they are the main character (it could be no other way), do not require me to play a part. If I do not exist for that part, someone else will play it. I am not necessary for others' melodramas.

I already knew that from one angle and have practiced assiduously in not chameleoning myself into others' expectations of my playing those roles. No problem there. I am firmly me and if I err, I err in the other direction: others must play a part in my melodrama. (I console myself in thinking that the parts I require for others are that others are to "be themselves" and to come and go as they wish; I do my best to not intrude on others' freedom. Nor do I generally seek others out to play roles in my melodrama. In fact, most days I cannot find my melodrama.)

But back to the joy of revelation. I disappeared. I vanished. The sudden knowing that I am dispensable in serving as a character in anyone else's story brought a delicious burst of freedom. It is as if I died and the death is an excellent one!