A Pint to My Gallon

I wish someone had checked on me, stepped in to ask me what was actually happening. I wish someone had cared enough to recognize the panic and inconsistency that was erupting in the midst of everything. Instead of the silent treatment, triangulation, mockery, bullying, manipulation, I wish there had been understanding and accountability. Instead of "you're crazy" I wish I had gotten "you're grieving" and instead of "fuck you" I wish I had gotten "you're my friend, I care about you" or "I love you". 

Or do I? Do I really wish I had just kept making excuses and subjecting myself to a group of bullies? Do I really wish that I had never seen all of their true colors? It may have taken the ultimate showing for me to really realize and accept the ugliness of people. I had seen it here and there, but to know they didn't deserve to be in my life, their true character had to be revealed.  My loyalty probably would have made me just stick around.  

I kept believing that once they understood how much they were hurting me, they would be different. But understanding is not what changes people; character is. There is certain kind of devastation in defending someone for so long only to see that they are just like what everyone said and warned you about. I thought that the mean girls and bullies only existed in high school, not that they could also be grown women. Then I found myself in this "friend" group where I was just bullied by everyone.

I don't know if it was turning 40 years old or the devastating loss of my Dad - they just so happened to have occurred at about the same time - but I've heard about the sudden shift either event can initiate. I didn't really understand it until after I had experienced it myself; it was like a veil had been lifted.; the smoke had cleared. There’s a certain innocence that’s lost as you get older and with that is also the loss of nativity. Giving everyone the benefit of the doubt or holding onto the belief that everyone is just doing their best gives way to the harsh realities of the world. You start to realize that not everyone has your best interest at heart, not everyone actually cares about your well-being. Some people are okay with the damage they cause or even do it on purpose.

Grief left me with no more patience or tolerance for what wasn't real or true or genuine. I couldn't entertain bullshit anymore. Grief had a way of clearing out people and things that probably shouldn't have been in my life in the first place. I needed room for bigger and better, and room for myself again. It isn't a badge of honor for me to just continue to compromise or keep quiet about things that aren't okay.

Why settle for crumbs when I'm serving feasts? Like Oprah said: If you're a ten gallon person, why are you looking to pint sized people to be in your life?  Then I just finally jumped into the river and became water......

(from my book that has yet to be named)