unto you as unto me

Was I embarrassed or angry? I wrestled with those feelings as I tried my darnedest not to let those tears well up and blur my vision. Perhaps I had been a little too forceful in expressing my disdain at my best friend's mom asking her to read a book on the history of Paris in preparation for a trip they were going on that summer. I had seen that my friend was disgusted with the idea, and I took that as the go ahead to take up her cause and groan about the drudgery myself. I had spoken once too many times, however, and had been promptly shut up by a stern look from her mother and a quick, harsh word.

"Hey, some people do things a little differently than you, okay?"

We sat in silence. My friend, having hardly noticed the rebuke, flipped through the book, half bored but resigned to do as her mother had requested. Her mother stared blankly at the newspaper in front of her. Our breakfast was taking a long time to come, and I was already tired of this little cafe. I wanted to leave.

Had I been a more bold, sassy 12 year old, I may have. But my generally gentle nature wouldn't allow me that freedom. And besides, where could I have gone without a ride home? So there I sat, unnerved, shaken, and shocked at the sudden rebuke from a woman I had never encountered in that manner before, nor ever would again. I had pushed some unknown button and had received the payment for it.

I remember being so upset at that. Partly that she had spoken to me that way, but mostly because I felt ashamed at being such a bold little bother to her. I've always been really sensitive to people's perceptions of me, and if those perceptions were negative, it hurt me a lot.

In grade 3, I remember the day so clearly, my teacher had made a comment not unlike comments I had heard countless times before. As the class was leaving at the end of the day, she sharply snapped at me, not meaning to hurt, but to motivate. My reaction was instant. I shuffled into the cloakroom and muffled a sob. She noticed immediately and came and gave me a hug, apologizing profusely. And she never rose her voice to me again.

My dad often describes a memory he had of my younger sister and I as kids. We had been fighting and were about to get a spank. My sister strutted up to my dad and practically tossed herself across his lap as if to say, "give me your best shot and see if I care". I, on the other hand, was dying a thousand deaths as I hyperventilated, mentally preparing for the punishment. He says that that was the last time he spanked us, having realized that it was utterly pointless for my sister and probably too harsh for me.

So I was a rather sensitive kid. And I know that Ryan could attest to the fact that I've really carried that into adulthood. I have a hard time when I know someone has a problem with me or something I'm doing. I have to make a concerted effort to put things into perspective when it comes to criticism. And I can do it, but it takes effort. Not only that, but I find that I can get hurt by people quite easily, and when I do, I don't confront them, I shy away and cower and then form a bit of a wall between me and them so that I won't be vulnerable again.

So my question is this. If I'm so affected by other people's words and actions towards me, how the heck can I be so full of criticism and judgement of others? My sister Anna wrote a post recently on words and her struggle to conquer gossip, become a better listener and a more patient person. I have to admit that it spoke loudly to me as well. I have a growing list of moments that I wish I could delete from history - moments in which a bit of my inner judgements were exposed. Exposed or not, though, they're there and are constant.

When I watch TV, I have to practically duct tape my mouth shut in order to keep from spewing criticism as vile as the trash I'm watching. When I've had a frustrating moment with someone I'm close to, I spend my alone time reliving the argument, finding better and harsher things that I could have said in retaliation. It's ridiculous. It's small. It's ruining me.

So Anna, I'm going to adopt your list as well. Thanks for that.