¡3 es el número mágico!
Eso me decía mi madre cuando algo no iba bien. La tercera es la vencida, insistía, con esa fe inquebrantable que tienen las madres delante de sus hijos aunque el mundo se les este cayendo a pedazos.
Yo ya voy por el intento 27, de gritos, peleas, insultos, semanas de indiferencia, platos rotos, y ahí sigo, dándole otra vez, porque claro… “la tercera es la vencida”.
El problema es que nadie nos enseña a decir no antes del primer intento. Nadie nos dice: hija, si desde el principio no te sientes bien, si cruza la línea del respeto, si hay momentos donde dejas de ser tu para agradarle a el… no tienes que probar tres veces. No todo merece una segunda vez, y mucho menos una tercera.
Pero nos criaron para aguantar, para insistir, para no rendirnos nunca, como si rendirse fuera pecado.
Nos aplauden la perseverancia aunque sea pura terquedad disfrazada, nos dicen “te fe” incluso cuando lo que deberíamos tener es coraje para dejarlo todo.
Y uno aprende tarde, casi siempre a golpes, que también se es valiente retirándose. Que decir “hasta aquí” no es fracasar, es cuidarse, que a veces el verdadero número mágico no es el tres… es el uno. El primer presentimiento, esa vocecita que susurra bajito, esto no es para ti.
Pero eso no nos lo enseñan.
Y eso, en mi pueblo, se aprende después del intento 27, cuando ya una está cansada y un rota, pero definitivamente más despierta.
Me gustaría invitarte a participar en esta dinámica diaria.
🇬🇧 English Version
Three is the magic number!
That's what my mother used to tell me when things weren't going well. "Third time's the charm," she'd insist, with that unwavering faith mothers have for their children even when the world is falling apart.
I'm already on my 27th attempt, of shouting, fighting, insults, weeks of indifference, broken dishes, and here I am, still giving it another go, because of course… "third time's the charm."
The problem is that no one teaches us to say no before the first attempt. No one tells us: "Honey, if you don't feel comfortable from the start, if he crosses the line of respect, if there are times when you stop being yourself to please him… you don't have to try three times. Not everything deserves a second chance, much less a third."
But we were raised to endure, to persist, to never give up, as if giving up were a sin. They applaud our perseverance even when it's just stubbornness in disguise, they tell us "you have faith" even when what we should have is the courage to give it all up.
And we learn late, almost always the hard way, that it's also brave to quit. That saying "that's it" isn't failing, it's taking care of yourself, that sometimes the real magic number isn't three... it's one. The first feeling, that little voice that whispers softly, "this isn't for you."
But they don't teach us that.
And that, in my town, is learned after the 27th attempt, when you're already tired and broken, but definitely more awake.
I'd like to invite you to participate in this daily activity.