I liked this boy – I really did. He was handsome, smart, funny and charming and we had great conversations. We really seemed to connect. But, alas, he met someone he liked better and we never made it to our first official date. Disappointing, but it happens.
We seemed so very “in sync” and he appeared to be transparent, upfront and honest – qualities I value highly and feel I also possess. He assured me he didn’t play games and that “what I saw was what I got” with him. I trusted him. And as we got to know each other, I shared with him a difficult story from my past. I told him something deeply personal - something about which I’m self-conscious. I shared this with him in the spirit of being open and honest and getting to know each another.
When he decided he didn’t want to date me, instead of telling me the truth about having met someone else, he chose instead to say it was because of the deeply personal story I’d shared. I’m sure deflecting the responsibility onto me made it easier for him, but the result was humiliation, shame and hurt for me. He said during this conversation that I could add him to the list of assholes who had hurt me. He seemed almost comforted by the knowledge that he would not be the first asshole to leave a mark. Because that’s what happens, isn’t it? Every hurt leaves a mark – a scar of sorts. Every humiliation shapes us. Every shame changes us.
But those marks – those scars – are what make us who we are, just as much as our joys, triumphs and proud moments. My parents gave me life, but my life made me who I am. My life and all the experiences that have been part of it make me “me” and I’m pretty happy with who that is (most days). I believe the scars are beautiful and I’m honored beyond belief when someone shares one of theirs with me. So it’s unlikely I’ll stop sharing mine with those I care about. And if my scars are subsequently used against me, I’ll learn from that, but I won’t let it cause me to hide them.
This week a boy hurt my feelings and it’s going to leave a mark. It’s true that I can add him to a list, but it’s not a list of assholes as he suggested. It’s simply a list of people. People who have touched me - many in good ways, some in bad ways, and mercifully few who have hurt me intentionally.
All in all, I feel pretty lucky.
You are so beautiful and every day I feel more and more blessed to know you.
ReplyDeleteOnce again, I am crying. You can bring tears out of me faster than I thought possible. It is so true, isn't it? Our feelings still get hurt like when we were five years old. However, we have to take it like adults now. That is the hard part. Unlike when we were five, we can communicate the pain so much better to those who can protect us. I am glad to be one of the "protectors" and I am so proud of your honesty, strength, and ability to take each life lesson and put a positive spin on it! You are remarkable and I am crazy about you, my friend! Socks and Rocks!
ReplyDeleteYou write what we all feel, we just can't say it as beautifully as you do.
ReplyDeleteYou know, I'm at a loss for words as usual. You've moved me in a way that I cannot adequately express. ((hugs))
ReplyDeleteWay to put a positive spin on it, Sista!! You rock <3
ReplyDeleteI admire you. You inspire me. I like your style of writing. Reminds me of how I used to write. Thus begins my nose all up in your business as I've so enjoyed reading this post, and shall continue reading. ;)
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