Weekday mornings bring about clarity and vulnerability. I am too honest. And there is a beast inside me that roars. She is protecting me as I come out of my nightly metamorphosis while my new wings are still too wet to fly. It’s why I don’t talk to people in the morning. If they set me off I will devour them whole, but, more literally, I’ll tell them to fuck off and then rage about it for a couple of hours.
Weekday morning Vene must be allowed to mellow into afternoon Vene before she is approachable. People who love me know this.
But here’s the clarity I came to today. You see, I’ve been grappling with a decision lately to get rid of someone in my life. She brought out the worst in me and I knew, for certain, that she saw the good things that I did for myself professionally only as they related to her personal lack of success. She was stealthfully Single White Femaling me. And that jealousy will lead people to do awful things or at least transmit really negative energy. I didn’t read this in a book or hear it on a podcast. I saw the movie SWF. I’ve lived it. I won’t stand for jealousy in my female relationships because I have positive proof that my best female relationships don’t have any jealousy.
Yeah, we’re out here existing without being catty bitches. And now I refuse to go back.
So what happened when I shared this info with a friend who sort of connected us? He sounded disappointed because he says she’s cool (on the rare occasions that they talk).
In the moment when he said that, I knew he was disappointed in me. Because she was still cool, so I must be wrong in my assessment.
In that moment, I could have told him what she’d said behind his back or given a litany of examples of ways she was not someone I needed in my life, but I stayed quiet. And just let it stew until I was uncomfortable in my very own skin last night. Even though I knew I’d made the right decision. It’d taken me months to make this decision and a lot of consideration and trying in spite of knowing we shouldn’t be friends.
There might always be this whiplash I experience from certain people I love being judgmental about my decisions in a way that makes me feel unsupported and wrong (because of mommy issues). Especially about things that take me a long time to grapple with before I pull the trigger on the decision.
And then I can start to worry that I was wrong. That my experience was false. That my perception was off-kilter and my reality was totally different from what really happened. I feel insane. It can get very ugly inside my head. I get defensive but I don’t defend myself. Instead I will drive the knife deeper into my own wound. I will take their disapproval and make it my own and then do the damage to myself.
But I’m not insane. I’m reliving an old pattern wherein my truth was never honored. In which I couldn’t defend myself against my abuser so I just gave her what she wanted and hoped she’d go away sooner rather than later.
I know that when I see these people now, they too were raised with certain toxic patterns that led them to be abusive and me to respond to their abusive behavior with codependency. We’re just doing what out parents did without giving it a second thought.
Well here’s my second thought: fuck to the no. I did the right thing to protect myself. And anyone who offers their opinions on things I do to secure my safety doesn’t get an opinion. And I don’t owe them an explanation. Because they wouldn’t protect me if I needed it. They just want to peel off my skin, flay me, and leave me for the wolves.
I can love these people. But I know that their “concern” comes in anthrax-sprinkled envelopes.
And what is my proof? How do I check my math in these circumstances? How do I ground myself in objective truth? I look at these friends’ other relationships. And suddenly it’s like seeing the code in the Matrix. “Wait a minute, this is their programming. They’re doing this to every one of their significant others and then wondering how their relationships are so fucked. They don’t even see it happening!”
There’s so much gaslighting going on that it’s easy to lose touch. But I’ve done the work. I’ve dealt with my abusers as well as my part in allowing, loving and even provoking the abuse.
Not anymore, buckos. You‘re gonna have to wake up earlier in the morning if you want to successfully pull that on me. At least in the long run. My programming has changed. And if you try to compile me with bad data sets now, I’m gonna throw an error. DOES NOT COMPUTE.