Bacon
So basically my life as I knew it came to a screeching halt and everyone else was just as stunned as I was.
I wanted to tell everyone. Not because I wanted to air my dirty laundry but because I was hoping someone had answers. Anything. Why was this happening? Who was this other person involved? How could he? How could she? Was he on drugs? He must certainly be on drugs, right?
It was never about bombarding people with the stories of a woman scorned. It was about figuring out what the hell was happening and why the floor was dropping out from under me. I remember telling people what was going on, sometimes detail by detail, just hoping they'd give me answers. To what? Honestly, who knows? Anything? Can you tell me you had a friend whose neighbor pulled something like this and then he snapped out of it and all was fine? Can you tell me this is normal for a man with a brain tumor so he must have a brain tumor that is clouding his judgment?
The brain tumor theory was an actual point of conversation. Several people actually asked me if he had a brain tumor. The jury is still out on that one.
When it was all said and done, there weren't any answers to be given. I was a single mom, moving my kids and everything we owned out of our house, selling it, and divorced. Start to finish it took nine months. Eleven years of marriage, the house, our life, it was gone. And all it took was a gym membership and nine whole months. It was whiplash.
People told me I was so strong to survive that. They still do. They told me, "If anyone can survive something like that, it's you!" I've been told I've held it together so well. You would never know what was going on.
But I'll be completely honest in saying it was annoying being so strong. It was annoying hearing that. What do I say? I know? Yeah, I know I'm strong. I don't want to be. I'd honestly like to scream at someone. Can I do that? Is that strong? Because I'd really like to lose my shit and light a Mercedes on fire a la Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale. No? Is that not an option?
It was annoying turning the other cheek. I didn't want to be strong. Everything was unraveling. Couldn't anyone see that? I'm sure they could but pain is uncomfortable to get close to. Especially with someone so seemingly strong. And I wouldn't have let anyone know anyway. I didn't want comforting. I wanted answers.
You know the worst thing someone could give me during that time? Pity. Feeling so sorry for me. It touches the deepest parts of shame in every part of me. It's a dirty word and an even dirtier feeling and I don't want any part of it.
So what I'll tell you for trying to comfort those who are going through hell and seem so strong, is if you ask them if they're okay, they'll almost always say yes. I did. I still do. And I won't tell you otherwise. I will tell you we're doing good and that there is nothing to worry about. You'll go on thinking I'm so strong and secretly thanking the universe it's not you. There, but for the grace of God, go you.
Pain is uncomfortable. Other people's pain is even more uncomfortable. I am that meme of the person trying to comfort the other person from afar with a broomstick saying, "There, there. It's okay." I don't know how to do it either. And I've been on both sides of that broomstick.
I would offer to those who want to help someone through a particularly massive life train wreck, instead of asking, "Are you okay?" ask, "What do you need? Is there anything I can do?" Because for the strong type, they'll never tell you they're not okay. And if they divulge they're not okay, then you're close enough to already know the answer that was coming.
The best option? Go for brunch. Have conversations over food. Over coffee. Over drinks. That conversation? That's the good space. That's where you'll find out if someone is okay or not. That's where you'll find out what they need. That's where you might find out if YOU'RE okay. Connection, conversation, food - it all heals.
Comfort and connection aren't seamless. It's hard and uncomfortable and you might not have the answers the other person wants or needs. But, have faith. If you're meeting for any kind of breakfast food, the comforting has already started. Bacon might not give you answers to life's hard right turns (debatable) but it's a hell of a good start.
I wanted to tell everyone. Not because I wanted to air my dirty laundry but because I was hoping someone had answers. Anything. Why was this happening? Who was this other person involved? How could he? How could she? Was he on drugs? He must certainly be on drugs, right?
It was never about bombarding people with the stories of a woman scorned. It was about figuring out what the hell was happening and why the floor was dropping out from under me. I remember telling people what was going on, sometimes detail by detail, just hoping they'd give me answers. To what? Honestly, who knows? Anything? Can you tell me you had a friend whose neighbor pulled something like this and then he snapped out of it and all was fine? Can you tell me this is normal for a man with a brain tumor so he must have a brain tumor that is clouding his judgment?
The brain tumor theory was an actual point of conversation. Several people actually asked me if he had a brain tumor. The jury is still out on that one.
When it was all said and done, there weren't any answers to be given. I was a single mom, moving my kids and everything we owned out of our house, selling it, and divorced. Start to finish it took nine months. Eleven years of marriage, the house, our life, it was gone. And all it took was a gym membership and nine whole months. It was whiplash.
People told me I was so strong to survive that. They still do. They told me, "If anyone can survive something like that, it's you!" I've been told I've held it together so well. You would never know what was going on.
But I'll be completely honest in saying it was annoying being so strong. It was annoying hearing that. What do I say? I know? Yeah, I know I'm strong. I don't want to be. I'd honestly like to scream at someone. Can I do that? Is that strong? Because I'd really like to lose my shit and light a Mercedes on fire a la Angela Bassett in Waiting to Exhale. No? Is that not an option?
It was annoying turning the other cheek. I didn't want to be strong. Everything was unraveling. Couldn't anyone see that? I'm sure they could but pain is uncomfortable to get close to. Especially with someone so seemingly strong. And I wouldn't have let anyone know anyway. I didn't want comforting. I wanted answers.
You know the worst thing someone could give me during that time? Pity. Feeling so sorry for me. It touches the deepest parts of shame in every part of me. It's a dirty word and an even dirtier feeling and I don't want any part of it.
So what I'll tell you for trying to comfort those who are going through hell and seem so strong, is if you ask them if they're okay, they'll almost always say yes. I did. I still do. And I won't tell you otherwise. I will tell you we're doing good and that there is nothing to worry about. You'll go on thinking I'm so strong and secretly thanking the universe it's not you. There, but for the grace of God, go you.
Pain is uncomfortable. Other people's pain is even more uncomfortable. I am that meme of the person trying to comfort the other person from afar with a broomstick saying, "There, there. It's okay." I don't know how to do it either. And I've been on both sides of that broomstick.
I would offer to those who want to help someone through a particularly massive life train wreck, instead of asking, "Are you okay?" ask, "What do you need? Is there anything I can do?" Because for the strong type, they'll never tell you they're not okay. And if they divulge they're not okay, then you're close enough to already know the answer that was coming.
The best option? Go for brunch. Have conversations over food. Over coffee. Over drinks. That conversation? That's the good space. That's where you'll find out if someone is okay or not. That's where you'll find out what they need. That's where you might find out if YOU'RE okay. Connection, conversation, food - it all heals.
Comfort and connection aren't seamless. It's hard and uncomfortable and you might not have the answers the other person wants or needs. But, have faith. If you're meeting for any kind of breakfast food, the comforting has already started. Bacon might not give you answers to life's hard right turns (debatable) but it's a hell of a good start.
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