All my life, I struggled to make friends. It was a hard move, from Hawaii to Washington. A true culture shock- and that included a shock of company. Friends were hard to make. And the rest is history.
I remember hearing that a good friend is one who listens, takes interest in others...someone is isn't just sitting there, but is truly present. So I did what I thought was best; and that was to listen.
It worked. People gravitated towards me, unwinding from their tightly knitted lives and unburdening their thoughts, expressing their ideas which would in other company, cause controversy, on me. And I was grateful to be of some help, even if it meant not responding. But there were times when I wanted to set my burdens down. I wanted someone to hold my weight just for a moment, maybe stroke my head and tell me that all would be well, and give me the comfort I yearned for.
But no one listened.
If I began to talk about myself for a second, the immediate disinterested party member emerged, and my search for comfort was stopped abruptly. I feared the ever coming rejection that I had already sampled. No one responded to me, but instead all I got was a ," Oh, that's a bummer. *text text text* Oh my gosh, you know what ______ did?" Only to continue to veer away from me.
So I adapted. And just listened.
Well the time has come for me to let go of my past. To loosen the grip on my anger towards the people who had the uncanny ability to make me feel insignificant. Small. Unimportant. And like a downright loser.
It has come to my attention that I have been holding onto these feelings for far too long. I give them much more credit than they deserve, and it's time for me to be strong, turn around, and face the music. To allow myself the freedom to be confident, and to not let anyone determine my happiness. Because of them, I've allowed myself to hold back on opportunities where I otherwise felt unworthy of, and frankly, just not good enough.
So as I embark on this journey of following Eleanor Roosevelt's infamous piece of advice, I realize that people will still be ignorant of others, but in this case, of how I feel. But I need to push past it.
I just finished talking to a childhood friend of mine who has moved away after our senior year of high school. We chatted about his family, romances, work, and social life. But when the time came that I finally braved up and started to talk about me, the typical, unsurprising reaction from most ensued:
"That's a bummer. It's getting late, I have to go."
I hung up discouraged. I'm on this new path of enlightened confidence, and they're already hitting me.
As hard as it was to swallow, I just let go. And part of that process includes this rant.
It still sucks. But when is anyone ever going to listen?
Will anyone ever care?
I guess I'll just stick to trees and leaves. Oh, and sunshine. At least they listen.
How grateful I am for a Heavenly Father who listens. Truly listens. Even though I can't see him face to face, I can feel that he is there. He loves me. He cares for me. And he truly listens. I couldn't have asked for a better creator, or a better heavenly father.
Happy Father's Day to all the men in my life. I love you.
