I like to think of myself as a cool, confident 51-year old woman who has her shit together. It’s an illusion, but I have always like to play pretend. Some days I can pull that appearance off like a champ and then there are other moments where I give off the attitude of a monkey throwing crap at people. Yesterday, I was the dung throwing monkey.
I have this amazing emotional toolbox that stores all the healthy maneuvers that help me cope with day to day situations. The key is remembering that said toolbox exists. When caught up in an upheaval of sorts, it can be a free-for-all. That, my friends, is when I lose all sense of self. I allow someone else’s issues to cloud the scenery. This is especially true when there is an emotional connection and the person has prime real estate in the past, with a scenic view of their resentments. Only those resentments are disguised so that the individual can maintain their title of “victim”.
When this situation occurred, I might have already been in a state of “how soon will this dinner be over”. It is like being in the middle of a battlefield without the proper weapon. Unprepared, I freely participated in the exchange. Let me just say friends, that trying to change someone else’s interpretation of the past is futile. And by the time I got home, I was completely and utterly disgusted with my participation. I allowed someone else’s issues to interfere with my peace of mind.
Okay, so after my tiny berating session, I let myself off of the hook. I am never going to be able to change this person’s mind. I am not responsible for their happiness. And, I have choices. If I keep participating in the insanity, then I am apart of the problem. Every. Single. Time. That is my part in all of this. The beauty is the knowledge that I am simply a student of life. Obviously, this relationship presents a lot of challenges, but it doesn’t define me. My goal is to remember that my toolbox travels and I can’t leave home without it.