Skip to main content

Complicated

I'm a relatively practical person when it comes to interactions with other people. I don't know if that is just the result of my life experiences or my interest in psychology. Not that that matters, of course. What does matter is that I boil things down to a few simple equations.


human+human=sticky situations
human drama+me=I'm outta here

I've learned, often the hard way, that I don't need extra complications in my life. There are enough there already. What I don't understand is why people feel the need to let the drama brew and fester and turn into an emotional infection that leaves scar tissue in its wake.

Take, for instance, what I recently said to someone about my view of human relationships. In a perfect world, I like some qualities in another person and would like to have them as part of my life. If they feel the same way about me, great. If not, that's great, too, because I only want to be surrounded by people who also want to surround me. I guess this is why I keep my friends as long as I do. We work.

This just makes sense.

There's really no need for the complications. Yet, so often we find ourselves stuck in the mire of how we want others to perceive us or a suffocating fear of rejection. The real freedom, however, is found in realizing that we make our own decisions about what is and what is not acceptable. Sometimes I have to accept the fact that something about me is not acceptable. Sometimes I'm the one cutting ties.

And that's okay. It's supposed to be that way.

Comments

Christy said…
Yup.
Lurve the playlist, BTW :) GNR? Sweet. I always feel like he's singing to me on that one - my eyes are blue and there aren't many songs about blue-eyed girls, you know?
frabjouspoet said…
What's up with that? With all you hear about blue eyes, you'd think there'd be more.

Popular posts from this blog

Tough As Nails

I found "The Chub" last night. This is a small, thick spiral notebook that I had carried around with me for several weeks last winter and spring. Its sole purpose was to be an immediate reservoir for any brilliant ideas I had during the day. The only thing I ever wrote in there (besides grocery lists and bill schedules) was during my family's reunion-birthday-anniversary cruise last January. My words were interesting, and I clearly remembered writing them on the little boat that took my aunt, sister, and cousin to go snorkeling in the Bahamas. The funny part was that I wrote about how the breeze was making the weariness "seep from my bones". I read it yesterday while I was home from work. That is, after I was sent home for nearly fainting during a class. Apparently, the look of my skin was so bad that my students thought I was pulling a Halloween prank. While driving myself home, I was thinking about the recent events that led me to the afternoon and how embarra

The Transformation Begins

Do you ever feel like your life is a movie? I hope so because I certainly do, complete with an occasional out-of-body experience and a soundtrack. Right now, I hear Journey in the background and see myself out running each morning, conquering the evil vacuum cleaner, and throwing away my old flannel shirt. The last few days were interesting. My husband and I had few good fights...and lots of laughs. I can't help but think they were related. I know they are. The fights were about establishing boundaries. We finished our budget for June and updated our to do list. At the end of the day, he was completed something he had to have done, and I was working on final edits for my book. I'm really proud of us. We looked at our situation together, set some goals, and we reached them. I'm really proud of him, too. He's the kind of man who doesn't stop until he's completed what he had in mind. I love that tenacity. I guess that's what makes us a good match. I see the big

Busy Days Ahead

It's been a busy week for me. I left my house at 4:30 Monday morning for my drive down south and pulled back in my driveway at 1:20 this morning. The days have been long, too, between working at the new school from 7:30 until 3:00 or 4:00 and then working at the new place until 9:00 or 10:00 each night. I now have callouses on my fingers and not one intact finger nail. I think I've also developed a new twitch somewhere on my face. One afternoon this week, I stood in the middle of our new living room and took in the sight of missing drywall, a growing hole in the floor and soaked up my husband's predictions that we still won't be ready to paint by the weekend. All I wanted to do was cry. All I felt was nothingness. Numbness. Anyone who has ever reached the point of numbness knows that it's scarier than feeling like you're falling apart. It's one step beyond feeling like you're falling apart. I couldn't help but wonder just what we had gotten ourselves