Expectations
The rabbit spent much of its life trying to become the rabbit it thought everyone expected.
Not because anyone had handed it a list.
Because the rabbit carried the list inside its own head.
Be kind.
Work hard.
Do well.
Don't disappoint anyone.
Don't be too much.
Don't ask for too much.
Be grateful.
Be useful.
Be enough.
The rabbit did not follow these rules perfectly. Not even close.
The rabbit's mind wandered. It forgot things. It started one task before finishing another. It arrived late. It lost important pieces of paper. It became distracted by thoughts, by ideas, by worries, by the sound of rain against the window.
Sometimes the rabbit tried so hard to do what was expected that it forgot what it actually wanted.
It always seemed to be apologising for the parts of itself that could not stay in line.
The rabbit got married because that was what rabbits were supposed to do.
The rabbit had children because that was what rabbits were supposed to do.
And the rabbit loved them.
There were moments of happiness so beautiful they almost hurt. Tiny hands. Quiet laughter. A hug that arrived without warning. A family sitting together while the world carried on outside.
The rabbit treasured these moments.
But they never stayed.
The happiness would arrive like sunlight breaking through clouds.
Then the clouds would close again.
The rabbit always wondered why everyone else seemed able to hold onto happiness while it slipped through its paws.
Deep inside, the rabbit believed it had to earn everything good.
Love had to be earned.
Belonging had to be earned.
Rest had to be earned.
Even existing had to be earned.
Every achievement only bought a little more time before the rabbit had to prove itself again.
If the rabbit worked harder...
If it earned more...
If it helped more...
If it became better...
Then maybe it would finally deserve the life it already had.
But proving it was impossible.
Because the finish line lived inside the rabbit's own heart.
Every time the rabbit reached it, it quietly moved further away.
The rabbit did not know that some things are not meant to be earned.
Some things are simply meant to be received.
It is still difficult for the rabbit to believe that.
It still wakes most mornings feeling as though it must justify its place in the world before the day is over.
And so the rabbit keeps trying.
Not because anyone is asking it to.
Because somewhere along the way, the rabbit learned that being itself was never enough.
It still hopes that one day it will discover something it has never quite been able to believe.
That perhaps it was enough long before it ever started trying to prove it.