“Nothing”: The End of Sunshine and Rainbows and the Beginning of Stankness


I’m sitting here trying to remember why I started Honesty’s Protégée and for the life of me I just can’t. I think I wanted an anonymous place to vent. At some point, it evolved into recipes and DIY stuff and it has come full circle back to expressing myself in the best way I know how: writing.

This is all stream of consciousness and with all my stream of consciousness posts, you are free to check out at any point. I usually MAKE a point, but it takes a while to get there. Tonight is probably going to be one of those nights. I have a lot on my mind and I’m not sure what to address first.

Ah. Old patterns. You ever recognize a behavior, discover a workable solution, implement said solution and then a few months, maybe years, later look up and find yourself back at the beginning? No? Well aren’t you the perfect pants (enter hard side eye and smirk). For the rest of us who take a few steps forward and then fall back, it’s frustrating. For me personally, it’s emotionally draining. I try really hard to do things different and when I find myself back at the starting point because of some fuzzy event in the past, I get upset. I try to remember where it went left and typically can’t pinpoint one thing. It’s a series of things that end up in me spazzing out on someone or retreating into my head. And then I start having the dialogue with myself. Feeling shitty because I pushed people I care about away to defend my sensitivities. Everything gets filtered through the defensive lens.

Ugh. That sucks. A. Lot.

See, there’s something about writing this, about getting it out of my head, where it all makes sense. I can defend my own crazy in my crazy court with my crazy court jurors. Every verdict is guilty. But when it has to be retold, when it has to be given as testimony to someone else, it sounds like a hamdog looks: kinda WTFish.

What is my hamdog habit? Being silent about the little things. The little things, people. Why someone used a certain tone. Why they did – or didn’t – do something. What they said to me. When it was said. Why did it even need to be said. I mean if I’m going to STFU so people don’t feel bad, everyone else should too. It’s only courteous, right?

Nooope. Because relationships aren’t cultivated on courtesy. If you can’t tell me I’ve hurt or upset you and vice versa, then why are we interacting with each other? Why am I wasting your time if I can’t help you learn how to be in my life in a way that works for both of us? In a way that honors me and lets you feel free to be who you are? There really isn’t a point and we’re going through the motions. I don’t mean brutal honesty. That’s an excuse to be an ass. You can tell someone about themselves without belittling them or making them feel small.

In the last few days, I’ve learned from at least five different sources that criticism is usually because someone wants me to be better. To treat them better. To show up for them or for our relationship. They want me to be in their life in a way that honors them, not in a way that’s easy for me. And to be quite honest, sometimes that’s some hard shit to hear. Like lumpy throat hard. Like ‘I’ma let y’all play with my ball while I sit on this bench and think on that’ hard.

Here is what I’ve figured out though: things that hurt are things that need to be examined. They need to be looked at for what they are, not for what I want them to be. They are opportunities to learn to love deeper, to form bonds that bind relationships. Ways to find strength and courage to not only love you, but love myself too. They are a call to action and living in the present moment where everything is perfect. Even stankness. Because stankness means someone or some event exposed a nerve.

So as I embrace another cycle of this lesson, I have only two goals: say how I feel and listen to the response from a peaceful, loving perspective. And maybe this time I’ll actually get it.


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