You watch lies being told. You watch excuses being recycled. You watch cahances being given like loyalty points. And somehow, you still hear yourself say, “I would never.”
Until life gently reminds you that many people have, at some point, negotiated their standards like they were flexible subscription plans.
That’s what makes characters like Joyce so familiar.
Not because she is unique, but because she reflects a pattern many people recognise even if they don’t want to admit it.
The signs are rarely subtle.
They are usually loud, repetitive, and basically doing the most.
Unexplained absences.
Stories that change depending on the day.
Promises that sound impressive but behave like fiction.
That constant gut feeling whispering, “Something is off,” while everything is being over-explained.
And yet logic slowly gets replaced by creative interpretation.
“He is just stressed.”
“It’s just a phase.”
“Let’s give it time.”
At some point, people stop responding to what is happening and start negotiating with what they hope is happening.
Hope is powerful. It convinces people that potential is proof and intention is action. It will have you believing “maybe next time” long after “this time” has already disappointed you.
The truth is, most people don’t end up in difficult situations overnight.
They arrive there slowly.
One ignored instinct at a time.
One compromised boundary.
One “it’s fine for now” decision that quietly becomes a lifestyle.
Before long, you are no longer questioning the situation.
You are explaining it.
And that is where things get complicated, because society often rewards endurance over honesty.
People are praised for staying, for being patient, for holding things together even when things are clearly falling apart.
Somewhere along the way, endurance started getting confused with strength.
But there is a difference between commitment and self-abandonment.
A difference between patience and silence.
A difference between hope and denial wearing the same outfit.
This is why characters like Joyce frustrate people so much.
The wanting to believe.
Staying a little longer than necessary.
Explaining what you already know deep down.
Which is why the real question is not “Why didn’t she leave?”
It is “How many times have I done the same thing?”
So let’s normalise choosing ourselves.
Let’s normalise listening the first time our instincts speak.
Let’s normalise walking away without needing everything to completely collapse first.
And let’s normalise notbecoming ‘Jane the builder’.
