A person said to me: “You’re not honest enough.”
I replied: I’ll work on that.
I vowed then, at that moment: “Whatever is the truth, I want to share it.”
Later, the same person complained that I was too honest. I didn’t know the truth had limits. But the truth does go only so far. And sometimes despite honest intention, the truth is less popular than a fabricated, pretty lie. The pretty lie makes us feel good. Nothing is to be examined. And so we go on in futility thinking that all is well.
When we leave our perceptions and motivations about the truth solely to our emotional state, no one wins.
I was born with a natural gift to speak and I’m currently developing my gift to write. If I left my writing talent to the feelings of others, I might never have learned my capability.
But feelings are complex. Humans consciously and unconsciously choose people that offer the best emotional connection. That emotional connection could be victim-hood.
One says: “I’ve been hurt”
The other says: “I been hurt, too.”
They both say: Let’s ruminate over our hurt together.
That is until one of them decides that he or she is done hurting. Then, all hell descends.
When that communion is lost—that mutual feeling— and someone feels less useful. Like petulant children, the one with the biggest wound throws the biggest inner temper tantrum ever known. And that follows a walk off in despondent shock because the idea of a good time was far less good than initially planned.
I once met a person who said:
Surely, I don’t hate you. But each time the “not hated ” ventured towards a concept too painful to be examined, this person looked for every excuse to distance themselves.
Then I’d hear later from mutual friends that this person was assassinating the “not hated’s” character. I’m now convi but is too afraid to say the opposite because of how it would make her “true friend / partner companion” feel.
Feelings are funny. We all want to share right up until what we are sharing is less than perfect. The younger version of myself thought I needed someone to always agree with me. The new me still thinks that, but the old me had to learn that there will always be someone who hates you. And the sooner you know that everyone cannot like you, the better equipped you are, to not let everyone’s feelings run your life.
I once knew a woman who never invited me to her house except in limited context. I later found that her feelings decided that I didn’t measure to the “refinement” level that she desired in all her guests. I concluded that she wasn’t rich, she was just petty.
When I forgave her, I vowed that I’d never lay claim to someone’s time, just to gloat about how much better I’ve got it than they do.
And all this because of someone’s disillusioned feelings.