It’s Not Me. It’s You.
Curiosity got the best of me this morning. I simply HAD to do some Facebook stalking of some very nasty family members (related by marriage, not blood, thank God)! Just the thought of these “meanies” can reduce me to tears. It really is true what they say: mean people actually do suck!
What shocked me was that there was nothing on their updates about anyone else. Every update—for months—was about only THEM. Specifically, how they were smarter/better/more educated than every other person they met. I shook my head, grateful that there were no nasty posts about me (yes, that has happened in the past), and it just hit me: it’s all about them.
What’s all about them? Well, everything. Just ask them! While I worry and wonder about my family and the world and people and especially homeless puppies and kittens and old friends and the greater universe as we know it and, just everything and everyone, these people think only of themselves. I’m not even sure how to do that, and I don’t think I want to learn.
It reminds me SO much of my short-lived first marriage to a very nasty and troubled guy. I spent years thinking things were “my fault” (as in, he kicked my little dog down the back steps, but that must have been “my fault”; he cheated, but clearly that was “my fault”, if only I’d been thinner, prettier, made more money, “better” somehow—then I would have been worthy of his love). I know exactly how I came up with these ridiculous thoughts, because these are the exact things he said to me; but, why did I listen and accept it as my personal truth? It seems crazy now. I remind myself of that when I think of the “meanies” and how they have hated me, seemingly from the very day they met me. I spent countless nights, endless bottles of Prosecco, and ridiculous amounts of my time feeling awful about it. I tried SO HARD to get them to like me—and now I realize: it’s not me. It was never me. It is THEM.
This is the path to self-love and forgiveness—this ability to see it for what it really is. Sure, I’ll always wish that my ex-husband marries someone “just like him” and/or contracts a nasty, incurable, sexually-transmitted disease, but that’s okay. It’s okay to not like mean people. What’s NOT okay is to let them rent space in my head. What’s NOT okay is to give them my power. Lest we never, ever forget how powerful we really are, ladies. At the end of the day, whether it’s a nasty ex or a nasty relation by marriage, one thing is for sure: WE ARE, and will always be, better than that.
Live well. Be fabulous!