innocence lost

this post might make no sense whatsoever. I'm raw and teary, and facing one of my demons down. It might defeat me tonight, but if it does, no doubt I'll get the chance to battle it again some other day.

This pain feels old and deep. It has been triggered only a handful of times in my life that I can recall. It's hard to put into words. It involves people misunderstanding my intentions.

The first time I remember feeling this sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach, I was working in a hospital's day care center. An elderly volunteer showed up on a day that wasn't her usual day, and I greeted her with a surprised, "Mary! What are you doing here today?"

She turned around, marched straight into my supervisor's office, and shut the door. I was mystified. An hour or so later, my supervisor called me in and handed me Mary's letter of resignation. I felt like I had been hit from behind with a two by four. I was devastated by the misunderstanding.

I wrote Mary a letter of apology begging her forgiveness. I offered to quit if she would stay. She had logged over thirty years of volunteer service at the hospital, but there were no concessions that I could make that would convince her to stay on board. The tears are pouring down my face as I remember this today, over twenty years later.

I think it's the helplessness that hurts the most. I truly meant her no harm. I am simply not good at anticipating multiple potential interpretations before I speak and wordsmithing to avoid the worst of them. I just say what I think, and it does not occur to me that people might take it any other way than the way I meant it. It's a rather huge blind spot, yes? Sometimes I think I should just hole up here at home and avoid any real time interactions.

Anyway, what further mystifies me is when people refuse to allow me to clarify. Mary had decided that I didn't want her there, and was not at all interested in hearing what I was actually thinking, either back when I had spoken those words, or in the moment I realized what had happened.

So I know of at least a few people -- Mary, and some others who shall not be named -- who are walking around thinking I am a mean person. Oh, plus there's that buff guy at the grocery store a few weeks ago who had his shirt unbuttoned almost to his waist.

My daughter and I walked by him at exactly the moment that I said, dripping with sarcasm as part of a joke I was telling her, "Yeah ... that's attractive." My daughter told me after we left the store that he froze and looked at me as if I was the rudest person on the planet. I hadn't even noticed him there because I was so busy cracking myself up. I was horrified, but tracking him down to try to straighten that mess out would only have made it worse. So add him to the list, too.

hmm, interesting. Byron Katie's voice just popped into my head, saying, "What you think about me is none of my business." But what I think of myself is definitely my business. And as sad as these misunderstandings are for me, I have to let them go once I've done all I can to set things straight. Certain people believe I am mean. Who am I to argue with them?

geez, that's a tough one for me to just let go of. But what else can I really do? This is a benevolent universe, so I must be playing a necessary role in their lives. I can't change their projection, and really, that's all I am for anyone anyway - a character in the movie they are producing of their lives. Who am I to argue with the script they wrote for me? They have made a mask of my face to speak the lines they've written for my character, so the real me is free to mosey on outta their movie any time I wish. They already have what they need from me.

If people treat themselves with unconditional acceptance, they probably think I am doing the same thing. If people attack themselves, they probably think I am doing the same thing. It's the only way they CAN interpret my intentions.

It's not my business. There's nothing I can do about it.

And I'll be honest ... I still don't like it. But it's late. Time to put my demons and myself to bed.