A month or so ago, I was walking into a meeting and someone I know from the rooms was walking in as well. We hadn’t seen each other in a long time and I was happy to see her. We are not close, but the affection I felt for her, real. As we approached each other, she said, “oh your name came up at lunch the other day...” and then she abruptly stopped talking. It was clear from the way it all went down that she and whomever she was lunching with, were discussing me, in likely not a very flattering way.
This whole interaction was observed by another friend of mine who provided verification later on that my feeling about the whole situation was also her view of the interaction. It was very clear the woman and the others involved were gossiping about me and she signaled that and then realized what she had done and stopped.
I will admit it kind of fucked me up for a minute. I was intensely interested in what they could have been saying about me. I wanted to KNOW. But after like five minutes of intense wondering, I decided I didn’t need or want to know. I mean, I can fill in the blanks.
“Who does she think she is dating that guy?”
“Who does she think she is writing the crap she writes?”
“How is she making a living for herself doing what she does?”
“Did you hear she went out with a 34 year old?”
“She is so fucked up, look at her dating choices!”
And I can imagine less and more. And while I am not sure why MY life is so interesting that it would be the subject of afternoon lunch time discussion, it did appear, at least on this day, I was the topic of some sordid discussion.
And given my own personal growth, I am not going to address the possible responses to each of those likely questions. I have my own path and it has been jagged at times. But trust me when I say I work on myself every single day. I try. I work to heal. I am not a basic person, but a complicated one whose trajectory in this life has required a great deal of healing, of hurting and starting over again.
And cowboys are my weakness...(thanks, Pam Houston). And we all have weaknesses. We all have injuries and trauma and if we are lucky we all do the work to get better, and the progress is totally 100% ours. I do not judge another’s progress or lack thereof. That is not my purpose. I have no idea the path they walked or the things in this life they have had to survive. And my own journey and healing is a full time job, leaving me no room or time to get involved in the business of others.
What is lacking in that particular female circle is compassion. I am not sure what is so threatening about a woman, recovering and figuring it out, that I would become the focal point of lunch time gossip. Jealousy? Fear? I really don’t know because I do not associate with people like that anymore. My place in that particular social circle vacated expeditiously a couple of years ago. I don’t want to lunch with people who have nothing better to do with their time than to malign and harangue another woman who is trying to do better, be better and heal. I am not sorry about what it looks like. I am literally doing the best I can. And I am not sorry that isn’t good enough for them.
So why am I writing this somewhat defensive blog? Because I feel like in today’s world with the election looming we could all use a reminder that perhaps those people who make us uncomfortable, or engender within us the desire to talk shit and smack about them, might perhaps be changed into a more thought evoking process of attempting to see where this other person is coming from and how they might be showing up in their best form to date.
I do NOT have it all figured out. But I do have these particular women’s number. And I want nothing to do with them. And I actually feel sorry for them that they have nothing more exciting in their lives than to discuss my life and exploits. Seriously, you might want to get out more.
And for myself, I am turning a kinder heart towards myself and the journey I have walked. It hasn’t been easy. It has been hard and long and life threatening on many occasions. I have had to work my trauma out in very public ways which is embarrassing and very painful. But I have never given up and I have taken all my self created hard knocks and turned those fuckers into gold. And that makes me an alchemist. And that is fucking badass in my opinion.
So talk away, gossip your little hearts out. I am sorry you have nothing better to do in your life...really, I am. And for me, I am going to go right on living this amazing life I have. Traveling. Dating. Writing. Reading. Being sober. And fucking living. I am here, living this life and healing one day at a time. I am not sorry one bit that my healing doesn’t fit your version of who and what I should be. I am happy, content and figuring out my shit one motherfucking day at a time. And I live very comfortably in my own skin most of the time. And I live a life today that does not require that I sit in fancy restaurants running down other women who are trying to survive and live. Nope, I am out there living my life, doing everything I can to lift up, support and love my fellow sisters on the path. Perhaps, you might try that...instead of being so threatened by truth, authenticity and the messy living that life seems to require of us all. Mine may not look all that pretty, but it is fucking mine and I am grateful for every single minute I get to do it, no matter how poorly.
I got the whole living thing wrong for a very long time...I thought I was supposed to live for your approval. And then I woke up and realized I don’t need your approval, interest, blessing or love. I am the only one that can give that to me. And I can see now that my brief attempt to be your friend and in your world was just another fucked up, misguided attempt to get love from someone who made me doubt my worth. I have no time for people like you anymore, because I am living this fucking amazing life and there is no room for you and your petty gossip any longer.
It is amazing the heights you can soar when you cut the anchors that weigh you down...anchors like the petty jealousies and mean girl bullshit that I allowed to force me to live half a life for way too long. Today, I have room for all the other women who are not afraid to own their brokenness, their damage, their pain and their loss and wear it like their true skin. And do the work that allows for them to move ever closer towards the light in order to cast light for those still wandering in the dark. And I am very sure, you cannot do that from Tré Lune in Montecito. All that is available there is mean spirited gossip that enslaves you far more than it ever could me.
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