Open Letter

Open Letter
Disclaimer: If you think this could possibly be at you, then you’re right, it is.
To anyone that has ever considered themselves close enough to call me friend…
I’m sorry I hurt you.  I know I did, and it was never really my intention.  Maybe it was something that you just let get to you that you shouldn’t have taken so seriously, or maybe it was just me being selfish and not really caring at the time if you were hurt.  At any rate, I’m sorry.
Did you know you’ve hurt me too?  Maybe you knew that, or maybe you didn’t.  But you have.  More than once.  Maybe you didn’t know you did, or maybe you were just being selfish too.  Or maybe my expectations were too high.  I’ve realized that holding on to my hurt is really hurting me more than you, though, so I forgive you.  It may require me forgiving again and again, so I will try my best to do that.
I wish I could be completely authentic with you.  You don’t and probably never will see all of me.  I have thoughts I don’t share, and things that I’ve done that I’m afraid will make you not want me.  I have insecurities and doubts that I think will make me look like a weaker or lesser person in your eyes.  I have failed you in ways that you don’t even realize.  I have not always spoken up and defended you when someone said something bad about you.  Sometimes it has been easier to remain silent or even to agree.  I’m not sure why that person’s opinion of me meant more than you do, but at the time it apparently did.
I wish you could see what I feel, but I can’t let you in all the way.  I can’t let you see how I beat myself up.  I can’t let you see the failure I think I am, for fear that you will agree and think that about me too, or that you will see how weak I am to doubt myself so much, that I’m not the strong person you had hoped.
Yes, I have judged you.  Yes, I have disagreed with you.  Yes, I have not always liked you.  And I definitely have not always liked the people you choose to spend some of your time with.  Sometimes I just don’t understand you.  And sometimes I have even expressed that to others without telling you.  I know I shouldn’t have feared confrontation with you, but I did.  I was afraid you would get mad, or that you wouldn’t understand.  So instead I just kept silent and let it get between us.
I–Wait, what did you say?  You have judged me too?  And talked about me to others instead of confronting me?  You’ve kept things hidden from me and let stuff come between us too?  You have doubts and fears and insecurities just like I do?  You’ve gotten mad when I haven’t met your expectations?  How could you do that?  What kind of friend are you?
Oh wait.  You’re imperfect.  And messy.  Just like me.  Oops.
So wait, what do I do?  What do you do?  Will we agree on everything someday?  Will we both drop all of our expectations and judgments and selfishness and never make any more mistakes?  Will we both always remember to not take everything so seriously and just let everything roll off our backs?
Or – will we both need to reread this letter again in the future?  I’m sorry I don’t have a “better” answer.  I know I will continue to make mistakes and have expectations.  But I can also continue to forgive, and to love, if that’s what you want.  If you want me, I want you, and I want to call you friend.
(a year later)
I’m sorry I hurt you…

Disclaimer: If you think this could possibly be at you, then you’re right, it is.

To anyone that has ever considered themselves close enough to call me friend…

I’m sorry I hurt you.  I know I did, and it was never really my intention.  Maybe it was something that you just let get to you that you shouldn’t have taken so seriously, or maybe it was just me being selfish and not really caring at the time if you were hurt.  At any rate, I’m sorry.

Did you know you’ve hurt me too?  Maybe you knew that, or maybe you didn’t.  But you have.  More than once.  Maybe you didn’t know you did, or maybe you were just being selfish too.  Or maybe my expectations were too high.  I’ve realized that holding on to my hurt is really hurting me more than you, though, so I forgive you.  It may require me forgiving again and again, so I will try my best to do that.

I wish I could be completely authentic with you.  You don’t and probably never will see all of me.  I have thoughts I don’t share, and things that I’ve done that I’m afraid will make you not want me.  I have insecurities and doubts that I think will make me look like a weaker or lesser person in your eyes.  I have failed you in ways that you don’t even realize.  I have not always spoken up and defended you when someone said something bad about you.  Sometimes it has been easier to remain silent or even to agree.  I’m not sure why that person’s opinion of me meant more than you do, but at the time it apparently did.

I wish you could see what I feel, but I can’t let you in all the way.  I can’t let you see how I beat myself up.  I can’t let you see the failure I think I am, for fear that you will agree and think that about me too, or that you will see how weak I am to doubt myself so much, that I’m not the strong person you had hoped.

Yes, I have judged you.  Yes, I have disagreed with you.  Yes, I have not always liked you.  And I definitely have not always liked the people you choose to spend some of your time with.  Sometimes I just don’t understand you.  And sometimes I have even expressed that to others without telling you.  I know I shouldn’t have feared confrontation with you, but I did.  I was afraid you would get mad, or that you wouldn’t understand.  So instead I just kept silent and let it get between us.

I–Wait, what did you say?  You have judged me too?  And talked about me to others instead of confronting me?  You’ve kept things hidden from me and let stuff come between us too?  You have doubts and fears and insecurities just like I do?  You’ve gotten mad when I haven’t met your expectations?  How could you do that?  What kind of friend are you?

Oh wait.  You’re imperfect.  And messy.  Just like me.  Oops.

So wait, what do I do?  What do you do?  Will we agree on everything someday?  Will we both drop all of our expectations and judgments and selfishness and never make any more mistakes?  Will we both always remember to not take everything so seriously and just let everything roll off our backs?

Or – will we both need to reread this letter again in the future?  I’m sorry I don’t have a “better” answer.  I know I will continue to make mistakes and have expectations.  But I can also continue to forgive, and to love, if that’s what you want.  If you want me, I want you, and I want to call you friend.

(a year later)


I’m sorry I hurt you…

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

May 11, 2010   4 Comments

Friendship

I want to write this post, but I don’t even know where to start.  If you read my blog regularly, you know that my dad passed away a little over a year ago, and that I’ve had a difficult time dealing with this.  Over the course of this last year, a lot has happened in my life.  Along with my dad’s passing, various situations happened among some of my friends.  Circles of friends fell apart.  I also started grad school, and that has been its own struggle as well.  Looking back over the last year, I have learned a lot.  I can look back now and examine some of my actions or non-actions during that time.  One thing I’ve noticed is that I lost virtually all of my “social energy” for quite a while.  Let me explain what I mean by that.

See, I used to be someone that brought people together.  One of my friends even dubbed me the “nucleus”, meaning that I was how friends knew each other.  Plenty of people met through me, because I’ve had a habit in the past of just inviting people from various parts of my life to come together, whether that means parties at my house or just inviting friends to hang out when other friends are getting together.  And after my dad died, that changed for me.  Between dealing with his death, struggles with grad school, and various drama with friends, I just didn’t have the energy to initiate connections with people like I could before.  Being the “nucleus” literally just drained me, and I would’ve had no energy left to sort through my own dealings, which was hard enough in and of itself.  So I stopped initiating much with people.  I couldn’t be the nucleus anymore, not for a while anyway.  Instead, I really needed people to be there for me.  Normally, I feel like I’m pretty capable of being the friend that people can come to and talk to as well as the one that hosts events and brings people together.  But not right now.  I found myself needing people to support me, at least emotionally.

I’ve started to notice that recently I have begun to reach out to people again.  I’m just starting to once again feel like myself, like I can reach out to people and be there for them and not just need them to be there for me.  I’ve noticed friendships developing, and I’m starting to feel more connected where I haven’t for a while.  It’s a good feeling.  It’s also caused me to look back over the last year at other friendships.  I’m not really one to judge friendships, and I call people “friend” pretty easily, because I make an effort to truly try to be friendly and be a friend to pretty much anyone, no matter who they are.  But I’ve just realized lately that I really do have very few people I consider a close friend, especially looking back over the last year and who has stuck around and who hasn’t… who has been a friend that only really was there when I initiated connection with them and who has continued to be there pretty much no matter what.  It’s been a discouraging, enlightening, and at the same encouraging revelation.  There are people that I don’t look at the same way anymore – people I used to call close friends, but wouldn’t anymore.  There are people that are truly gifts in my life – people that held me up, listened, and supported me through very rough times.  There are friends that I have grown closer to.   There are new friends that have become just what I needed at just the right time.

One new thing I have learned is that I will no longer chase after friendships.  I don’t mean that I don’t think my friendships are valuable – I do, very much so.  But if someone makes it clear that they really aren’t that interested in my friendship, I won’t chase them.  I have done it in the past, and it’s just not worth it.  If someone doesn’t want to be my friend, then I owe them nothing.  Some people might have said it in words and others in actions, but I know I have people that have been in my life that I just don’t feel the need to try to please anymore.  So I won’t.  My time and energy will go into the friends that I know I can truly call friend.

On a more positive note, I am very lucky to have some truly amazing people in my life.  And I think I try to do a decent job of making this clear to those people.  Thank you.  You know who you are.  Thanks for coming into my life to some of you – and to others, thanks for sticking around. <3

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

March 30, 2010   1 Comment

A difficult year

So being the time of year it is, I have noticed more and more people posting on Twitter or Facebook or their blogs what they are thankful for. While there are definitely things/people/etc that I am very thankful for, I think I’m also going to use this opportunity to just be totally honest about what things have been like for me lately. I’ve hinted at it to people, and even expressed it to some, but just for my own form of therapy, I thought I would explain it a bit.

Everyone knows that my dad passed away in March of this year, and if you read my blog or keep up with me regularly, you know a lot of the other things that have happened in my life this year. Shortly before my dad passed away, I had decided to go back to grad school at the IU Kelley School of Business to get my MBA. Following that decision came a long process that included studying for the GMAT, getting letters of recommendation, writing an essay, and taking prerequisite classes, among other things. I continued this process after my dad died because, well, it was a decision I made and something that I wanted for myself, so there was really no question about following through with it.

So I submitted everything, took the GMAT and got a good score, took my prereq, and got into the program. School started in August, and I have been on the journey since then. It has honestly been an up and down road the last few months. First of all, grad school is hard. Maybe not for everyone, but for me it is pretty hard at times. If the work isn’t hard, keeping up with all of the work is. I have struggled at times to easily understand the topics we have studied so far. I have had no real business training other than on the job from being in a professional IT (information technology) environment. Things like accounting (other than the short course I had in high school) and economics (other than what I remember from college stats classes) are pretty foreign to me. And a lot of the time, well, I’ve felt pretty dumb. And some days, this feeling carries over into work too, when I’m facing some new task that involves code that I’m unfamiliar with or functionality that I don’t know how to tackle.  This all leads to a lot of feelings of not being good enough, whether it is with work, school, relationships, or other areas of my life.

Now – combine those feelings with the fact that along with the death of my dad and the stress of work and school, I tend to be a stress eater. Sweets are my drug of choice a lot of times when it comes to looking for a pick-me-up. This has led to gaining a few extra pounds that I really don’t want. So of course that doesn’t help with those self-worth issues any.

Only a few close friends really know how much of a struggle this has been for me. And while advice is great, I honestly already know most of the advice. I know my self-worth, I really do. I know that I’m pretty, that I’m smart, that I will get through school and get my MBA, and that I will even lose those pounds if I really want to. But right now – it’s very hard to get that from my head to my heart. Struggling to feel something emotionally where you just don’t can be a very crippling thing, and a very difficult thing to understand, especially from the viewpoint of those that love and care about the person struggling with this issue. And every little small thing that somehow feeds (or even seems to feed) the lie can feel like a complete emotional attack.

So, here’s my admission. These self-worth issues combined with grief have made close, trusted friends suggest that seeking counseling might not be a bad idea, so I’ve decided to check it out via CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services) at IUPUI. It’s a minimal fee service that IUPUI offers their students. And I have to admit that having someone to talk to about some of these things, a third party, can’t hurt.

So what does all of this have to do with Thanksgiving and being thankful? Well, as I’ve basically said many times now, it’s been a rough year. I don’t like admitting that, and I don’t like admitting that I need help. But I’m not sure what my year might have looked like without support from friends, for which I’m so grateful. Thank you, Ricky, gRegor, Seren, and Maurice, for being among the ones who know me best and still love me without fail. And thank you to that special volunteer at Outreach who let me know that I’m not alone, that I’m normal, and that grief can take years to overcome. I’m blessed to have so many great people in my life.

I’m also thankful that there have been a lot of wonderful things in my life this year as well. I’ve been able to achieve some pretty lofty goals and that fact makes me know that I can do anything I set my mind to. In addition to getting into grad school and working towards my MBA, I’ve also managed to travel a lot this year and visit some new places (including Las Vegas, the Grand Canyon, and San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua) as well as getting the next car I wanted, a 2005 Mini Cooper convertible.  Even though sometimes I can’t really feel it, I know I have accomplished a lot in the midst of a hard year.

I know I’m facing some difficult holidays coming up, but there are things to celebrate this year as well.  And I’ve realized that it’s okay to accept how I feel and to acknowledge that I’m not always capable of living up to expectations, especially my own.  But what I have done and what I am is still perfectly as it should be, even if there’s room for improvement (and there always is).  And there will always be those out there to love me and remind me of that, if I choose to let them.

  • Share/Save/Bookmark

December 8, 2009   1 Comment