Are You Kind?

This was posted this a few days ago, then put into my drafts while I played around with it a bit more. 

I found myself feeling that old, familiar guilt about being honest, Plus, it's nothing but someone else's dirty laundry to those who are unfamiliar personally with me or my strange little world.  I took it down and decided to sit with it for a few days. Very glad I did, because it only reinforced so much of what bugs me. I felt guilty because I always feel guilty, and I'm so over it. Nothing else has crippled me more emotionally in my lifetime. Perhaps one day I will understand what happened and when, but it doesn't matter. I now reject it in the name of self-preservation!

Some of my extended family may read here on occasion. Also, long-time friends from various phases of my life. This has 

often been a factor in what gets said. We all have our own versions of life's stories, and some may find fault with my particular version.  I mean no harm to anyone--- I just want to write. And that means just writing, free of the self-editing that occurs because I don't want to upset people I care for. What if I'm upset? Can't I just write what I want?

It can't all be pretty pictures and blah blah blah. That ain't me, babe. 

A very long time ago, my mother told me that I worried far too much over what other people thought. She never taught me how to stop it, either. She wasn't much of a builder-upper. Parents were different, then.

So, there is my disclaimer. My preface to the post below and any other posts that may contain my personal views, opinions, or stories. I just can't be worried anymore, about the unsolicited opinions of people who are thousands of miles away from me-literally and figuratively. 

I have found great peace these last few years. One reason is obvious-Hawaii, duh! There are other reasons and the biggest one is I am learning (at long last) to let go. It's not been simple-I was born an idealist/optimist, and for most of my years have always held out for that "positive" outcome. From my friends, family, and even the government. Ha! 

After more than five decades of often-disappointing outcomes, I've learned to lower the bar. Or remove it completely.

I find myself feeling more and more free of sorrow over disappointing outcomes. Because I've invested little or none of my own agenda in things that will inevitably underwhelm.

Then, when outcomes are positive and uplifting, I am genuinely happy and thankful. This has done wonders for my heart and mind. 

What a fool I was, entrusting those who had no intention of being honest, true, or ultimately kind. They who took so much of my energy and replaced it with their pain. expecting me to carry it for them. It wore me out. I didn't know how to fend them off, then. 

Some recent realizations have snapped me out of my comfy naivety. First I had to recognize some harsh truths, then grieve the loss of things that only existed in my ever-hopeful heart. And finally, leave it behind, replaced with self respect and love of those who understand what unconditional, non-judgmental love is.

You really only need a small number of people in your world, if they are good ones. I just don't have it in me to waste any more time on the shallowness or mean-spirited behavior of people who claim to like or love me. And blood ties do not necessarily ensure positive outcomes- a lesson I was slow to learn. (My children are always the exception.) 

When my father was in his last weeks of  life, an old friend gave me some advice that has (sadly) been spot-on. She told me not to be surprised at how *fucking weird" people would behave at the end of his life or in the wake of his passing. It's almost like his death was the green light. To marginalize and disrespect me in ways they could not while he was still in my corner. He was my champion, despite the fact that I never came close to achieving what he may have expected or hoped for. He loved me. I know it so deeply and purely. The rest of them? Not really sure.

And it's okay! It hurts to wake up to truths I've carefully avoided. But life is short and shorter all the time. So I choose love. And kind people. Or... my happy solitude.

Some would say I drew the short match when it comes to families. The firstborn child in a mercifully short marriage and an ugly, sad divorce by the time I was 7. Followed by minimal contact with my father for the next 5 years, Motherless at 24 (while pregnant with my first child) and always the lesser-than. The upside is my great fortune when it comes to a few real friends. I am rich in that regard. Plus, my children/our family provide everything I longed for but never knew. 

"We carry our parents in our skin and bones, like it or not, and struggling to remember them-correctly or not-is still an act of love."  Janet Zandy