Back in August, my post "Finding the pet in the peeve…" received the following comment:
"Perhaps if you didn't act like a simpering chick, even when you know you are, and putting up a front about not being one now, and don't really need to hear the answer because you know in your heart you are a stalking, psycho in huge denial about your intent with this friend...then you would find the real questions that need answered."
It was posted anonymously so I am unable to confidently identify who may have submitted it. I have a few ideas, but honestly, I would like to think that anyone who knew me would never use the words ‘stalking’ and ‘psycho’ when describing me and if they did it would be in a humorous moment or they would have the courage to let me know that was really how they saw me and why.
Granted the last six months have been a personal hell involving a series of one torturous life events after another and a person can handle only so much before they get a bit too close to the edge. Those I hold closest gave me the latitude I needed to work through the stresses, emotional pain and personal comprehension for the "Whys" of it all, and perhaps that is where these feelings arose but they were never conveyed to me.
I rejected the comment when I received it as it left me reeling and filled every fiber of my being with an overwhelming sense of shame, betrayal and hurt. Of course, to a casual observer it appeared as though I let it wash over me like rain on a duck's back, but deep inside I was shattered. Even now, whenever I hear the word 'stalker' or 'psycho', even in casual conversations between people as they walk by or as part of a script on a TV show, my ears are attuned to it and the shame and pain are renewed. Self confidence that took years to build was gone. It is only just now beginning to return.
I realized that in NOT publishing the comment, I was giving the individual who chose not to take ownership of their feelings more power than they deserve. In response, I'm not only publishing it, I'm addressing it head on and making it a post.
If, dear reader, you were the individual who made the comment, I would ask that you either leave another on this post, or send me a private email so that I can better understand what it was that caused you to write such angry and hurtful thoughts. I apologize if I wore out my welcome with you, but shame on you for posting those words without warning and without affording me the opportunity to defend myself. Communication is a good thing and many of the worlds problems and misunderstandings would be resolved if it were better practiced.
And if, for some reason, you feel that I am in fact the ‘stalking’ and ‘psycho’ person described in the comment, please respect me so much as to let me know so that I no longer burden you. And then, please fall back into your corner of the world and we'll go in our different directions.
In general, I’m done saying I’m sorry. Those words have made far too many appearances in my relationships this summer and they are holding me and those I love back from healing. I’m ready to Live, Love and Laugh. In other words, I’m not postponing joy anymore. Sadness will always be a part of me in that AunTie won’t be here to share in life, but I’m certain that she’d rather see tears of laughter and life on my face than those of sorrow or shame.
Granted the last six months have been a personal hell involving a series of one torturous life events after another and a person can handle only so much before they get a bit too close to the edge. Those I hold closest gave me the latitude I needed to work through the stresses, emotional pain and personal comprehension for the "Whys" of it all, and perhaps that is where these feelings arose but they were never conveyed to me.
I rejected the comment when I received it as it left me reeling and filled every fiber of my being with an overwhelming sense of shame, betrayal and hurt. Of course, to a casual observer it appeared as though I let it wash over me like rain on a duck's back, but deep inside I was shattered. Even now, whenever I hear the word 'stalker' or 'psycho', even in casual conversations between people as they walk by or as part of a script on a TV show, my ears are attuned to it and the shame and pain are renewed. Self confidence that took years to build was gone. It is only just now beginning to return.
I realized that in NOT publishing the comment, I was giving the individual who chose not to take ownership of their feelings more power than they deserve. In response, I'm not only publishing it, I'm addressing it head on and making it a post.
If, dear reader, you were the individual who made the comment, I would ask that you either leave another on this post, or send me a private email so that I can better understand what it was that caused you to write such angry and hurtful thoughts. I apologize if I wore out my welcome with you, but shame on you for posting those words without warning and without affording me the opportunity to defend myself. Communication is a good thing and many of the worlds problems and misunderstandings would be resolved if it were better practiced.
And if, for some reason, you feel that I am in fact the ‘stalking’ and ‘psycho’ person described in the comment, please respect me so much as to let me know so that I no longer burden you. And then, please fall back into your corner of the world and we'll go in our different directions.
And to be clear about my intents with the person the original post was about, they were simply for friendship. To share our life's experiences and stories about our families as they grow up. To suggest otherwise is to sully the boundaries of the relationship and disrespect not only the both of us, but our families as well.
In general, I’m done saying I’m sorry. Those words have made far too many appearances in my relationships this summer and they are holding me and those I love back from healing. I’m ready to Live, Love and Laugh. In other words, I’m not postponing joy anymore. Sadness will always be a part of me in that AunTie won’t be here to share in life, but I’m certain that she’d rather see tears of laughter and life on my face than those of sorrow or shame.
Slowly but surely I am returning to my ‘old’ self and laughter is returning to the Olson household. A renewed sense of calm is returning to my being and a smile graces my face more often than not... just because.
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