jueves, marzo 27, 2014

Confrontation, Conflict, and Con-Artistry

It all began with a misunderstanding. It was swept under the rug. Then there was another misunderstanding. Again, it was swept under the rug, not dealt with, and altogether ignored. Then, out of the blue, there was a notebook-a notebook!-full of misunderstandings and an accusation of con-artistry. I was being accused, interrogation style, in a little windowless room with a notebook of unresolved misunderstandings as evidence, of being a con-artist . . . of living a lie. All I hold dear was in question-my relationship with God, my marriage, my friends. I couldn't even look my friends in the eye because of the shame I felt at being falsely accused of using them only for personal gain. I cried. I cried again. I went to bed crying, I woke up crying. There was no truth in the accusation, but I was ashamed nonetheless. I was being accused of lying to Mr. M and it was implied that my marriage was a sham. It was implied that I was lying to my family and to Mr. M's family. It was hurtful. I don't know that any words before or since have been so hurtful. And it all could have been avoided if that first misunderstanding had been addressed. The hurtful words were spoken 15 years ago, so while it is true that sticks and stones may break my bones, don't let anyone tell you that words can't hurt . . . a lot.

2 comentarios:

HisAlone dijo...

Your the truest, most authentic person I know!

The White Wave dijo...

Thanks. This wasn't easy to write, but it was worth it if you enjoyed (?) it or were encouraged by it.