On occasion, something I write strikes a nerve with someone. One recent post in particular not only struck a reader’s nerve, but practically severed every vessel in her body. Apparently I’d held up a mirror and she saw her reflection gleaning back at her. She didn’t particularly like what she saw. When I consider the post I’m sure others don’t much like what they see in her either.
This reader isn’t someone I know well, but for whatever reasons she felt violated as if I’d secreted myself into her life and had somehow managed to unearth every one of her dirty little secrets. With her dirt exposed, she attacked. It was her expectation that I would fall for the okie doke and strike back. But such is not my nature...usually.
This person’s antics have put me in somewhat of a predicament. In considering my options I have to consider the impact my actions will have on those I love most. A trusted friend tells me I would be a fool to let her bad behavior go. I ponder whether or not it would be more foolish of me to entertain the madness.
And it is madness. It is anger and frustration coming from this deep, dark, ugly place of total unhappiness. It is jealous rage masked behind righteous indignation, determined to prove a point where none exists. It is bad behavior at its worst and although she pretends to do what she does to protect her family, it is her family that is hurt most, embarrassed by the sheer absurdity of it all.
But I harbor no ill-will toward this person. My heart actually breaks with sadness because her bad behavior will inevitably leave her all alone and much unloved and though, it seems, many have told her so, she still doesn’t seem to see it.
As a little girl, my grandmother frequently admonished me to take care of my looks. She was a woman whose beauty had served her well and she felt that such would benefit me as well. It was my mother who slapped that thought right out of my head, admonishing that one day my outer beauty would fade and all that I would have left to stand on was what was in my head and my heart. “God don’t like ugly” was her daily mantra.
God don’t like ugly. What has been said and done to me was beyond ugly. But that’s okay. I know that two wrongs will never make any of this nonsense right.
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Sherice
Bridget