Knowing The Real Me

I have a lot to say. For those of you who are afraid by long blogs, beware…
I live in a state I have called my home for nine years now. There is no one in my family nearby, and I have thus far forged my path here alone. But sometimes I picture what it would be like to return home. Somehow, I always imagined the perfect life during the holidays … Of course I'd drive home, from whatever adventure I had just completed. I'd make it home first.
Dad would, of course, be out running errands-getting firewood for the stove or salt for the sidewalk. Mom would be waiting, the soft sounds of Frank Sinatra's Christmas playing in the living room. The kitchen, as always, is a mess. The counter-tops are covered with every type of baking material possible. Her hair's disheveled, her clothes don't match, and she has no makeup on. But her smile that lights up her face when I arrive at the door, makes her beautiful.
It smells like cinnamon and bread and the house is warm and cozy. It has not yet begun to snow, but the air is thick and the ominous clouds foretell a white blanket will soon cover the ground. I stamp my feet to remove the dirt, and Mom ushers me inside.
Pretty soon, Shauna will show up. She'll probably bring her boyfriend with her-a guy I have yet to meet. She met him somewhere in Europe, I think, when she was on the "vacation of a lifetime" as she called it. He's got an accent I hear and has a sort of old-fashioned charm with modern style. I can't wait to meet him, and see if he's good enough for my little sister.
I'm still single, but that's okay. My search has yet to result in any tangible proof that God is working on someone great for me. Of course Mom asks about it again, but dismisses it when she sees that talking about it bothers me. "Don't worry, you'll find him. I'm sure of it." She assures me. Then she asks about my job and I launch into the latest boring dissertation of the latest in law enforcement.
About this time, there's movement at the door. I hear the door close quickly and the unmistakeable sound of cursing. "Someone's damn car is parked the front of our house again." He says annoyed. But then he sees me and realizes that it's mine. He scoops me up in a rough but warm hug, practically lifting me off the ground. Then he sets me down again and says, "Hey Angel. I didn't realize you'd be here so soon." "I couldn't wait to get here." I reply. Pretty soon, Mom and Dad are bickering over something small, but then laugh about it when I give them a strange look that betrays my thoughts that they are a lovely couple despite their shortcomings and petty arguments. Because underneath it all, they are fighting because they care about making everything "just so" for when Shauna and I come every year. Underneath it all, is their love for us.
Not much time passes by before Dad inquires about my financial status and how well I'm doing. I confess that buying presents has left me more worse for wear than I had intended. Dad promises to help me pay for my car insurance at the beginning of the year. "You can't let that lapse, you know honey. It's important." He shakes his newspaper, straightening it, and then launches into his latest stand on recent politics and the state of the economy.
Unfortunately, my real family is nothing like the one I so often picture. A long time ago, I made decisions that were supposed to help my situation, not make it worse. It has taken me years to realize what it is I am doing here in California and why I chose so long ago to run away. When I chose to leave my home at sixteen, I hoped that I would leave behind my old life and everything that came with it. I wanted to abandon my real family and with it, all hopes that the "semi-perfect" family I'd envisioned would one day because at least a small possibility.
But, years later, I continue to struggle with many of the things I purposely left behind. I struggle with decisions I am not sure I am strong enough to make and thoughts in my head that seem to have no escape.
Mom continues to drink, even after all these years-even after the cancer, even after it has driven away countless people from her life. She doesn't think she has a problem. Perhaps she has convinced herself thoroughly, or perhaps her drinking problem is my imagination.
Whatever the case, I will never forget her trips to the bar when I was younger, her "overnights" to whatever boyfriend she chose that month, and her constant torture of me and my sister. She continues to be in my life to this day. We had thus far, established the sort of relationship with clear boundaries. We must set boundaries to avoid the subjects that are like open wounds that may never close. We must have boundaries so that, on some level, I can have the mom I've always wanted.
The only problem with that is, I am me. I am person that Mom doesn't know. She only knows the scared, frightened girl I used to be-the one who always pretended to be what she wanted me to be so she wouldn't hit me. I pretended to agree with her most of the time, I pretended to agree with her when she told me what an awful person I was, and along the way, traded a piece of my soul for a few moments of grace and peace. Because, as long as I pretended, she could never touch me. She could never reach my soul or my heart. She could never touch my optimism, my generosity, or my faith that one day, things would be better.
Today, I think she is still caught between the person I am and the person I pretended to be then. The person I am today does not agree with her lifestyle or the way she chooses to live. If it were anyone else, I would merely stop spending time with her because I know that spending time with people who are a negative influence on you bring you down. The real me wants to do what I always do: fix things, make things better. My natural ability to sense what's wrong and try to make it right has no place in our mother-daughter relationship. She is the person who drowns her sorrow in alcohol, and I'm the girl she doesn't understand.
To her, I am supposed to be supportive. I am supposed to listen to her go on and on about her failed relationships, her bad decisions, and her desperate implorations for money. All the while, I can hear the sound of ice cubes hitting the edge of the glass. I don't have to ask what she's drinking; I already know. Most of the time when we speak, I try my best to keep our conversations superficial. Talk about the weather and my job and how it's always the same: busy. I don't dare talk about the person I really am because the moment I do, it becomes a war zone.
Whenever I try to be myself, and talk about the things that are important to me, she will always steer the conversation back to herself. "It's just like me and …" blah blah blah. Only, it's nothing like what she's going through. Half the time, I get the feeling she just wants to bring the conversation back to her again. Most of the time, I don't fight it. I just let it go wherever she wants to take it. I can't be the daughter I'd like to be because it's unhealthy for me. I can't call her every week or discuss real life issues or even spend large amounts of time with her. Because I feel like an alien in my own family.
The longer I hear about what she does, the more it upsets and frustrates me, the more I want to try and fix things. Sometimes, the real me breaks out and offers suggestions to make things easier. "Get some hobbies." I suggest. "Find some people your age to hang out with." But the moment my real self emerges, it becomes apparent why we are able to spend so little time together. She immediately gets defensive, as if, as her daughter, I have no right to tell her what to do with her life. All this from the parent who begs me for money or asks me what to do when things go wrong.
She seems to have little thought about how I am doing financially. I have never, in all the time I have been on my own, gotten a penny from her. All the times that I couldn't make rent or I didn't have enough money to pay for things, I struggled on my own. And when she told me she couldn't pay her bills, I tried to help her. Because that's what daughters do; that's what family does-they band together and help one another out. But at some point, something's got to give. This unhealthy relationship has got to change. I have recently realized that I have little more to give other than myself, my true self.
The truth of it all is, I should be enough. But if she were to know the real me... she would understand that I continue to struggle here in California. I continue to struggle with things that she will never understand. I continue to struggle every day with the things she didn't teach me, the choices I've had to make as a result of her failures, and a part of my soul died the day I realized she had no idea who I really was. But she will never know those things. She feels it is mine (and now Shauna's) obligation to care for her. But where was she all those years when we needed caring for? How can you care for someone else when you yourself are still picking up the pieces?
Ultimately, I had to choose. I had to choose my health and well being over her. I had to choose to keep myself safe and mentally (and it turns out physically) distance myself from her. I love her because she is my mother, but that doesn't mean that I have to like her lifestyle or support it.
She has chosen to live her life the way she has. If our roles were reversed, she would not –could not—come to my aid to help me. She would be the first to run away at a hint of trouble. And although I would like to be better than that, I've realized that you cannot begin to help another person before you've first helped yourself. It's not about being selfish, but about taking care of yourself. All those years that she never took care of me—never cared enough about who I really was-or perhaps never bothered to find out. And here I am. Because of, or perhaps in spite of her, I am me. I am here in California and I am making it all on my own. I have a great career, a great family (my friends of course), and feel great most of the time. That is something that I am very proud of. And I can't, for even a moment, imagine letting her take that all away from me again.
That's the thing about an addict. They will drag you down with them if you let them. They will take even those with the best intentions and force them to their ruin as long as it results in them getting what they want. Unfortunately, until she realizes this or changes her lifestyle, we will never be friends and we will never have the relationship I've always dreamed about.
How ironic that I should value family so much and yet have to learn to listen to the voice inside me telling me it's okay to walk away when my heart would have me do otherwise. I continue to have faith that one day, she'll find out who I really am and try to get to know that person. I believe that the best gift I can give my mother at this point, is my true self. I can also show my mother how much I love her, by being a better mother to my children than she was to me. But being a better mother, a better sister, a better friend, I will show her that it is possible to love and be loved without wanting or expecting something in return.
If my true self does not always agree with her lifestyle or her mean, hurtful comments, I must remain ever vigilant and continue to be true to myself. I just sometimes wish that the path wasn't so difficult, so long, or so lonely. When sadness tries to tear me down, I push it aside and know that I am happy with who I've become and strive, every day, to be the person that would make my mom—the one who has the potential to see the real me--truly proud.

Desensitization

I have been meaning to write something for a long time, but the days escape me and then pretty soon my brain is mush. It's not that I don't have a ton to think about (there are always ideas floating around in my head) but by the end of a long day, I cannot articulate myself as well as I would like.
To become desensitized (according to the dictionary) means to "make indifferent" or "reduce sensitivity to." This subject is difficult; on one hand, being desensitized means being able to handle things more easily, but on the other, makes me hardened, cold, and uncaring.
In my job, being desensitized is often encouraged. Remain "neutral" seemingly implies having no feelings one way or the other. But, in my opinion, it is almost impossible to see things or be involved in things that don't make you form an opinion.
Thus far in my life, I have chosen to be as naive as I possible can be. It's not because I don't realize the atrocities in the world, or even that I choose to ignore the truth. Rather, I try to keep myself believing for as long as possible, that there is still good in the world.
I am surprised to find myself growing (unavoidably) more desensitized as I get older. I saw gruesome pictures of an automobile accident a few months ago that, I must confess, will probably haunt me until the day I die. But then just today I saw some new pictures that were even more graphic, and they did not affect me as much as the previous ones had. I had suddenly become desensitized to it all.
In my life, being desensitized is what inevitably happens when you hear one story after the other that is really a bunch of BS. After a while, you automatically start questioning the stories that being to sound the same. It's a sort of process you go through much more quickly in my type of work when you interact with people on a daily basis. In the process of doing my job, I will have seen and done things that will cause me to be desensitized.
I have tried to remain as sensitive as I can, not because (as I said above) I choose to ignore things, but also because I believe that the worst thing a person can be is indifferent.
Elie Wiesel (an awesome author who wrote "Night") says:The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference.I truly believe that he's right. The opposite of life is indifference.
Lately, I find myself desensitized to the point of disillusionment. I have begun my ascent perhaps, into true adulthood-that place where I realize that the world isn't some great Disney movie where everyone gets their happy endings and justice triumphs over evil.
The problem is, I have to go it all alone. I have to face my fears on a daily basis all alone. And I can do it; I can stand tall and be independent-not necessarily because I am that way naturally, but because circumstances force me to fend for myself. If I were not as driven and motivated as I am, I might have settled for less. Sometimes I have to fight "the good fight" for myself; I have to fight for the job I want, fight for the relationships I want, fight for those things I believe in. But at the end of the day, I don't have anyone to lean on who can tell me that it's all right, that I don't have to bear the burden alone. I am strong, I can do it all without complaint, but the real question here is, do I really want to?
The more independent I become, the more struggles I face, the more I find myself disillusioned and hard. I have become more and more the person who doesn't take crap from anyone. On one hand, it's a good thing (and I find myself congratulating myself even as I write this for being strong enough to stand up for what I believe in). But on the other hand, I stand up for what I believe in, I become desensitized, but at what cost?
One of my biggest fears is that I'll continue to go onward alone and it will make me hardened to the point of indifference. I don't want to face the world filled with an indifferent heart. I want to be filled with fresh enthusiasm, with unfailing optimism and spirit. I fear that if I don't find a way to turn back soon or am not rescued before it's too late, I will start a process I will be unable to stop.
Being sensitive has graced my life with so many benefits, I hate to lose out on that skill and talent completely. It has been a blessing to be able to empathize with others and see their points of view, allowing me to help them. Even better, by understanding their struggles and issues, I come to better understand the nature of the world, the nature of the human soul, and even my own nature.
The truth is, it also helps me to address and conquer so many elements of my past. It's easy to desensitize myself (after all that I have been through) and just let the past fade away. As more and more time goes by, the past starts to become nothing more than a story locked away in my heart-one that is difficult to think about yet alone write. Time goes by, and when I write it all down, the emotion, the feelings that I had can sometimes take a while to re-identify with. I find myself feeling ridiculous for even attempting to put my feelings to paper. "Get over it." I sometimes criticize myself. Get over it? Or am I merely telling myself that because I have become so desensitized that my story (as horrific as it was) doesn't seem to compare with the stories and lives of so many others also struggling?
And as a final note, it has also managed not to affect how I view relationships, which is probably a good thing. But because my "relationship" sense isn't becoming as desensitized as the rest of me, it would seem that I am outgoing (on the outside) when I am really still continuing to struggle with an element of shyness.
If there's someone I like, it's difficult for me to "put myself out there" without some type of indication that there is returned interest. It's difficult for me to just "go for it" and hope for the best-because as much as I might like to have a good relationship, I find myself painfully shy when it comes to asking guys out or initially telling a guy how I feel about him. Once he has made the first move (or moves) then I competely open up. But I can imagine that is why I have such a difficulty at first-because on the outside, it might appear difficult to get to know me.
My point in bringing all this up is that I am completely discouraged. I don't want to be desensitized. I want to believe the world is a big, bright place and that things are going to work out for the best. I want to believe the best in people, believe that there is good in most people. I want to believe.
Lately it seems like I have had so many things come up that I have started to feel numb to it all. All I feel like saying is, "what next?" I feel numb and feel like saying "whatever" as a way of handling it. I feel overwhelmed and disappointed, and completely disillusioned. I want to find a way back to the me that believed in all the positive things in the world, before that version of myself slips away and this person who has replaced me remains.
I want to be the person who isn't too shy to ask a guy out on a date, who isn't going to take crap from anyone, but who still believes in everything good. But I'm still shy, and that doesn't seem likely to change anytime soon. The one thing I've tried to hold onto, my ability to feel real feelings, is starting to fade away into the background of the reality of my life. Perhaps that girl, the one who thought in make believe, who always cared, will slip away and maybe I'll never get to be that girl again. I guess that girl is starting to grow up and I only pray that where I end up is anywhere but indifferent.

Erin Brokovich

Having a really busy job, I found myself watching Erin Brockovich on t.v. while I worked. I've seen it several times, but was really curious as to the reality of it. It claims it was based on a true story, but I also realize that true is sometimes a matter of opinion, and not based on fact.
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.


Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html


Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html


Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html


Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html


Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI

Having a really busy job, I found myself watching Erin Brockovich on t.v. while I worked. I've seen it several times, but was really curious as to the reality of it. It claims it was based on a true story, but I also realize that true is sometimes a matter of opinion, and not based on fact.
So as I watched the movie, I made note of several things. Before I launch into that, let me just point out that the movie basically is a story of David vs. Goliath. A small law firm takes on a utility company for using Chromium VI that eventually contaminated the water supply in Hinkley, California. Most people have seen it or at the very least heard about it. Julia Roberts plays the part of Erin Brockovich and is the most noted actor in the movie.
As I watched the movie, several things stood out to me and I set on a small journey to determine the truth. Was the story of Erin Brockovich really true or was it more a souped-up Hollywood feel-good story invented to make someone a lot of money?
I would just like to say that ... you know, I really care about the truth. Sometimes, we accept things at face value and don't bother to ask questions about their validity. The truth is important to me; it's important to a lot of people. Sometimes, something can sound so true and seem so real, but in reality, all it is is smoke an mirrors. Let's take a look and see ...
The movie asserts that "The film tells the true story of Erin Brockovich, a legal assistant, who in 1993 lined up some 650 prospective plaintiffs from the tiny desert town of Hinkley, Calif., to sue Pacific Gas & Electric.
PG&E's nearby plant was leaching chromium 6, a rust inhibitor, into Hinkley's water supply, and the suit blamed the chemical for dozens of symptoms, ranging from nosebleeds to breast cancer, Hodgkin's disease, miscarriages and spinal deterioration. In 1996 PG&E settled the case for $333 million."
In researching the "facts" I stumbled across several articles completely contradicting the Brockovich movie and actually stating that the lawyers in the Brockovich "team" were merely sharks out to get a buck. The biggest attacker of their claims is Michael Fumento who, in The Wall Street Journal, March 28, 2000 article attacked each of the movies claims as false.
In reviewing this, let's take a look at the major facts claimed to be true in the movie:
Claim #1. Over 650 people in the town of Hinkley claimed they suffered such ailments as to be simple nosebleeds, rashes, to the more serious cancer and even death.
Michael Fumento claimed, "A study by Mr. Blot and others, just published in The Journal of Occupational and Environmental Medicine, evaluated almost 52,000 workers who worked at three PG&E plants over a quarter of a century. One was the Hinkley plant, and another is near Kettleman, Calif., where Ms. Brockovich's firm is rounding up plaintiffs today. The researchers found cancer rates were no higher than in the general California population and death rates significantly lower than expected."
Wow, that's a pretty solid argument if you ask me. If after a quarter of a century, the population and death rates were "lower than expected" then how is it that 650 people were convinced they were suffering ailments as a result of Chromium VI? I think I might have an answer to that question. But when I first read this, I was really starting to question the validity of the entire movie. After all, the attourneys in the real case did manage to get over $133 million. Was it possible that they merely wanted to take advantage of a big corporation? Let's take a closer look ...
Claim #2. Chromium VI is a dangerous chemical.According to Fumento, "We now know the scientific evidence doesn't back her [claim] up." He claims that chromium was scientifically proven to not pose a significant risk to anyone's health and any dangerous reactions are the result of inhalation not ingestion as the Brockovich team (and the movie) claim. Here's more of what he had to say, "Chromium-6, derived from ubiquitous chromite ore, is considered by the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency ... as a human carcinogen within certain limits. Its connection is only to two types of cancer, that of the lung and of the septum... Further, as one might guess from these two cancers, it's only a carcinogen when inhaled. Even then, research indicates it takes massive doses over many years and according to William J. Blot, head of the International Epidemiology Institute in Rockville, Md., "It appears the problem has been associated with production of the compounds, not the actual use." Her further stated, "According to the EPA's Integrated Risk Information System (IRIS), updated in September 1998, "No data were located in the available literature that suggested that [chromium-6] is carcinogenic by the oral route of exposure." As a slam-dunk to make his case, he further asserts, "Cancer aside, exhaustive, repeated studies of communities living adjacent to landfills with huge concentrations of chromium-6, including that detectable in residents' urine, have found no ill health effects. A report out of Glasgow, Scotland, in January indicated exposed residents showed 'no increased risk of congenital abnormalities (birth defects), lung cancer, or a range of other diseases.'" That pretty much solidifies his argument. As you might expect, Erin Brockovich herself wrote to the editor of the newspaper defending the firm's claims. Further, she claimed that people were hurt and were rightfully compensated. But Fumento's argument seems pretty solid. His argument used actual studies (and official words) while Brockovich's merely illustrated her astute grasp of the English language. I was beginning to fear that I had believed in something that was just a figment of a money-hungry lawyers imagination.
However, several questions still lingered in my mind. There were things not argued by Mr. Fumento that were a matter of unquestioned and undisputed facts. Specifically, the following:
#1) Why would PGE give in to false claims and give $333 million if chromium was completely safe? The company attempted to buy the land from the residents and even offered free water to residents. Why? Why would the company attempt to buy the land if there was no problem with it?
Fumento asserts that it was just giving in to the powerful legalities that they feared would cost them, that and the fact they were receiving bad publicity. However, the attempts to purchase the land from the residents came long before Ed Masry and Brockovich even came along and long before there was even an issue with the plants. So why would a company give money to something or for something that was harmless?
#2) How could 650 people possibly have illnesses from a chemical supposedly scientifically proven to be harmless?
Since I didn't have the answer to either of these questions, I did some further research of my own to finally put to rest whether or not this was a true story.
I found myself at the official website for the Department of Health And Human Services, specifically the Agency for Toxic Substances and Disease and looked up Chromium VI. This is an official government agency not profiting from having an opinion either way. According to the website, "Breathing high levels of chromium(VI) can cause irritation to the nose, such as runny nose, nosebleeds, and ulcers and holes in the nasal septum."
Uh oh, I noticed it said breathing not ingesting. Then I read on "Ingesting large amounts of chromium(VI) can cause stomach upsets and ulcers, convulsions, kidney and liver damage, and even death.Skin contact with certain chromium(VI) compounds can cause skin ulcers. Some people are extremely sensitive to chromium(VI) or chromium(III). Allergic reactions consisting of severe redness and swelling of the skin have been noted."
Further at the site, under the section of "how likely it is to cause cancer" it says, "Several studies have shown that chromium(VI) compounds can increase the risk of lung cancer. Animal studies have also shown an increased risk of cancer. The Department of Health and Human Services (DHHS) has determined that certain chromium(VI) compounds are known to cause cancer in humans." Oh yeah, and according to Wickipedia (I love that site), "The lethal dose of poisonous chromium (VI) compounds is about one half teaspoon of material." I should also note that one of the biggest contentions of Fumento is that the levels of Chromium noted in the movie is .58 parts per million (which is really high) but claimed that a level like that would not cause significant harm. According to Wickipedia, "The OSHA PEL for Hexavalent Chromium is 5 µg/m3 (0.005).[2]
Now, it doesn't take a scientist to figure out that .005 is much lower than .58!
Well there we go. There's the answer I was looking for, at last. The site describes chromium VI as a carginogen and extremely dangerous. Why would the utility company bother paying out $333 million dollars? Probably because they knew they had done something wrong.
My faith in truth and justice has been restored and all it took was a little bit of internet research. I would like to point out that, in doing this research, I discovered statements from Hinkley residents claiming how unhappy they were with the amount of money they received. That is truly a shame, because it's difficult to place a price tag on a human life, disease, or illness, no matter what the cause.
If the amounts gathered for the purposes of making the claimants whole weren't gathered fairly (as some claim) then I feel bad for those poor people who have suffered or continue to suffer as the result of that contamination. Hopefully the money they got was enough for their medical bills and a little bit of their pain and suffering.
I can never know what they went through. To me, the bigger picture is that winning the case was more than just about giving money to the people that were harmed. The bigger picture is to fight for the cause of justice. To fight against the use of chromium not just to give people money they felt they deserved, but to prevent the continued use of the chemical and to prevent it from happening to anyone else! It's about protecting future generations and making our world a safer place.
Anyways, I thought I would share this with you ... if you get a chance, watch the movie. It's interesting at the very least. While I think that perhaps the facts on either side of the case seem a little bit skewed, it seems that perhaps chromium VI is a little more dangerous than Fumento would have you believe. I wouldn't want to drink the water. Would you?
But this leads me to my next point: sometimes what we are presented with isn't always the truth. It's best to take a look deeper and investigate before we jump to a conclusion one way or the other.

Sources:
Fumento, Michael "Erin Brochovich Exposed" http://www.fumento.com/erinwsj.html

Brockovich, Erin "'Erin Brockovich,' Affirmed"http://www.fumento.com/brocklett.html

Department of Health and Human Services, "Chromium VI"http://www.atsdr.cdc.gov/tfacts7.html

Time.Com "Erin Brockovich's Junk Science"http://www.time.com/time/columnist/jaroff/article/0,9565,464386,00.html

Wickipedia.com "Chromium VI"http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chromium_VI

I have always been the type of person to really soak up life. But there are times when my enthusiasm gets the better of me and my personality becomes ... I don't know, perhaps too much for others to handle. Perhaps I am just a little too sarcastic, or my words hit a little too close to home. Whatever the case, I will explain more tomorrow when I am well rested ...

Instant Gratification

So I was talking to my sister about this, and we both agree that everyone seems to always want instant gratification in our society today.
They want, need a distraction so they turn to things that gratify them instantly: sex, drugs, pills, and alcohol. Or perhaps it's to a relationship that can give them what they want right now. We are so bombarded with all the things that come our way, that we are easily distracted and when we see something we want, we want it now. We have become a society that places emphasis on what you get as opposed to what you give.
I think the biggest danger in instant gratification is that it becomes an addiction to us. Even if we manage to give up that addiction, we slowly adapt something else to be addicted to. I think we move quickly from thing to thing because we are a society where we are easily bored and are always looking for a new "fix" a new high to keep from reminding us the truth of the world. It's not always that awesome, amazing place we thought it would or should be.
Our addictions are the ways we distract our hearts from feeling, distract our minds from thinking, and in essence, for just a moment we can pretend the world is as we want it to be, not as it actually is.
The difficulty here lies in our inability to form strong connections with other people. More often than not, people don't follow through with what they say they will do-a result of trying to take too much on and do too many things at once.
We heard a message at church over the weekend to "slow down" and I think it starts with our mentality. "Slowing down" isn't just about taking a day of rest, it's about trying to bite off more than we can chew, taking on too many tasks at once. "Learn to say no" was one of the main messages given to us. I think it especially necessary to learn to say no... to ourselves.
When we can't follow through with what we say, we let each other down, and unknowingly begin to lose the trust of our friends and loved ones. We slowly start to slip away and become more and more addicted to the next fix. Pretty soon, we are nothing more than a hollow, empty shell of a person. We need to learn to say no to ourselves, learn that we need to be patient, not always running after the "newer and better."
It reminds me of an ex boyfriend who told me about the "shiny penny" syndrome. If you have a group of pennies that are old, none of them stick out. But you put a new, shiny penny in the bunch, and suddenly, you can't help but stare at the shiny penny. Pretty soon, that penny isn't shiny anymore and you have to look for the next shiny penny.
To show you the example in terms of people, let's say a group of three people meet and are friends. They hang out with one another a lot and have a good time. But they know one another so well, they begin to flake on one another-because they are becoming familiar with them and bored. But once you introduce a new friend to the group, they are like the shiny penny that will draw the friends in again. In relationships, I have seen the same thing. After a few months, the girlfriend (or sometimes the boyfriend) becomes the old penny. Day after day, week after week, everything becomes the same, becomes routine. Not because they are not exciting people, but because you know them and who they are. Suddenly, you are bored and start to wonder if it's just you or if your relationship is doomed. You can't help but want to breathe life back into your relationship, but you've both become the used penny. So when the guy meets the new "shiny" penny, she might not be as cute or awesome or wonderful as you. She is just new and shiny and everyone is excited by the unknown.
This is why, I believe, so many relationships / marriages fail. Our need for instant gratification and the constant "new penny" syndrome makes us constantly want for more and never lets us be satisfied with what we have.
This is also why I believe guys are attracted to what are typically considered "crazy" girls. I think that they are attracted to them for several reasons that are easy to see. These could also apply in "crazy guy" but realistically, I think guys become more easily bored than girls.
#1) "Crazy" girl is difficult to figure out (because she's crazy) and difficult to figure out = a puzzle which = fun. Let's face it, if we know and understand someone, you'd think that would = great person we get along with. But what it typically means for most guys = boring and routine. Boring and routine = bad.
#2) "Crazy" girls typically stays like a new, shiny penny longer, because they are unpredictable (again, I sound like a broken record but-this is because they are crazy!) But again, unpredictable = fun. Us girls that have a decent job, our lives are mostly squared away, and we don't have significant issues = boring and routine. As I said above, boring and routine = bad.
#3) "Crazy" girls typically don't care about anyone but themselves. Why is it that crazy people are so focused on themselves? Hmm... again, they are crazy! But the thing that makes them interesting is that they are so focused on themselves that they don't focus on the guy which instantly makes them more attractive. Because they guy looks at it with his ego like, "how come they aren't paying attention to me? I'm hot stuff." And the girl blows him off. When she doesn't pay the attention to him he feels he deserves, it becomes like a game, a puzzle. A game or puzzle = chase which = fun. Guys are preditory animals and most men need to chase their prey and eventually win it over. Thus, while they say they don't like to play games, they inevitably do it anyway!
#4) "Crazy" girl ends up being with Mr. Nice Guy because Mr. Nice Guy gets stuck. There are things about crazy girl he likes. He doesn't want to be Mr. "Fix It" but at the same time, he does. He likes the attention and likes to feel wanted and needed. In attempting to fix her problems, it enables him to avoid his. Inevitably, however, he realizes there are several things about crazy girl he doesn't like: her instability, her intimacy issues, her insecurities. But at the same time, it becomes difficult to leave because at the same time, she is giving him the excitement that he craves.
So after all this, what is the solution? I think the secret is that we all have issues of our own device. We all have our own little bit of "crazy" but inevitably we will all become the dull penny eventually. The secret, it would seem, is to find someone who recognizes in us our potential. No one wants to settle for boring or routine. But I think that's what we really need. We are encouraged to go for the "shiny" penny and to abandon the old one. But what if we stopped wanting things now? What if our lives could stop centering around instant gratification?
It's funny how we emphasize the importance of "getting your life together" but I can say from personal experience that having my life semi-together is intimidating and boring. And as I've said a million times now, routine = boring. Normal = boring.
So then we turn back to instant gratification and being the shiny penny. I don't know if there's a way around it. I can only hope that someone looks at me and is able to see the shiny penny underneath despite whatever might build up along the way. And let's face it, let's hope I am able to recognize them too, because it's so easy to get lost in the sea of tarnished faces.

Interesting Idea

It was late when I got home; the rain had begun misting my windshield and as I made my way up the long ascending hill to my house, it began dropping in larger droplets, splattering on the ground and the roof.
Even though one of my favorite songs was playing on the radio, my thoughts were a million miles away. I was thinking about him, thinking about the things I had said, the things I hadn't said, the things I wanted to say. But life was funny that way, the way you were always torn between what you wanted, and the difficulties of crossing the unspoken boundaries between friendship and something more.
I shouldn't want anything more, should have just left it all as it was, but there was something in my heart that wouldn't let me find peace. It was a silent whisper in my soul and yet, I found it ridiculous. It was just like my character to like that which I couldn't have.
Pulling into my driveway, I turned out my lights, debating on whether or not to run to my door as I had forgotten my umbrella yet again-clearly a mistake in the rainy season. I grabbed an extra sweater in the backseat and held it over my head as I made my way across the sidewalk and up the stairs to the place I called home. It was freezing, my breath making short puffs as I hurried to my door.
I reached my door and was startled by a voice behind me. "Sarah ..." There he was, his long brown hair dripping wet. He had waited in the cold rain on my porch for me to come home.
"What are you doing here?" I quickly opened the door and stomped my feet on the welcome mat.
"I didn't know when you'd be here. I was ... waiting for you." he said, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the pouring rain. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater, no coat, no umbrella.
"Come inside, hurry!" I exclaimed, ushering him inside as the rain picked up its tempo.
He came inside, slowly, deliberately, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood at the front door, staring at me as though there were miles between us.
His silence was strange to me, given the fact that we always had something to say to one another.
"Here, let me take your coat ..." I approached, realizing that he was not wearing a coat and I was dangerously close to him. The smell of rain and cologne drifted up and overtook me. As I came closer, he made no move away from me. It was as if there were unspoken words on our lips and neither of us knew where to begin.
I stopped and cocked my head slightly to the side in puzzlement.
"You left and didn't say a word about where you were going." His dark eyes were pools of emotions I couldn't understand.
"I didn't know where I was going. I just wanted to get away." I said. "I felt as though I was suffocating.""But why?""Because of the questions you were asking me..."
"You left so quickly, it seemed strange."
I shrugged.
"You've always let me in," he continued, staring straight at me. "You've always told me what's on your mind. Why is it different now?"
I couldn't meet his gaze, my eyes dropping to the floor. I couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't tell him that he had gotten too close. I had made myself vulnerable and had let him in. Some day soon, one of us was going to get hurt when the other walked away. And since I could never tell him how I felt, it would easily be me.
I don't know if he was expecting an answer, but I just stayed quiet; I could feel his gaze piercing a hole right through me and I considered the idea, for just a moment, that he already knew how I felt.
Only a couple of seconds passed as I stared at the floor, but they were like hours and days to my heart. I glanced up and found that his gaze had not broken. As he looked down on me, droplets of water gathered at the ends of his hair and dropped onto his sweater. Without thinking, I reached up to catch another droplet as it started to fall.
Catching it in my hand, I felt his hand reach up and grasp mine. His hands were strong, powerful, comforting. My breath caught in my throat as he pulled me closer to him and for just a moment, I thought that he was going to hug me. But instead, his lips met mine and in surprise, I jerked my head back, but he did not relax his grip. His strong arms wrapped themselves around me and instantly, I felt a warmth spread through my entire body.
He didn't say a word, just smiled and kissed me again and again and again, our faces melting together as if it had always been that way. It was as if all of our unspoken questions were answered, and that something that existed between us had finally been realized. In that moment, everything was perfect. Two hearts, having been friends so long, finally came together for one perfect moment in time.
So I'd like to say it all had a happy ending but ... like so many stories, this one isn't true ... But I wanted to give a romantic "blurb" a try to see how I could do with it ... see if I was any good.
There was a guy in college (I can picture this happening in Oregon-thus the rain) who was a good friend of mine and always had a crush on this girl ... but he never told her. And she, unknown to us, had a crush on him --but never told him. This is like a moment in time in their untold story ... Although, I think they actually got married in real life (if this is you-and you know who you are--congrats, by the way).
Honestly, I wish this was really true for me. I put my name in because ... I think would be super awesome to have someone ... I don't know ... like me like that.... perhaps it was at one time, or will be in the future. For now, a girl can dream, right?
If it sucks, tell me!

Getting Older

So here's a random thought: I was driving home today and while driving down a really really busy street, I noticed this older gentleman who is probably around his late sixties, early seventies, trying to cross the road in the middle of the traffic. He wasn't at a light or a signal. Just trying to go across the way so many people do in Santa Ana: just run out into traffic-after all, people will slow down.
What made his effort so unbelievable was the fact that the man couldn't go very fast. He was the equivalent of one of those people who should be using a walker, but doesn't perhaps out of their own stubborness or perhaps because, on this ocassion, he decided to leave the walker at home and thought he'd have a better chance of going solo.
It was almost funny. But it wasn't. My first thoughts were that after my errand down the street, it wouldn't surprise me if, on my return trip, he was still making his way across the traffic. The only problem is, moving that slow on a busy street seemed more like an act of suicide than the actions of a man simply out for an afternoon stroll.
So I suppose he made it all right: when I returned from my errand, I half expected to see him-but he was gone.
Still, it made me realize that if I wanted to cross the street right now, I could. If I wanted to go sky-diving or snow-skiing naked, I could. I have my arms and legs and can walk or even run if I feel like it. That should never be taken for granted because one day I realize that I'm not going to have the ability to do that anymore, and I'm going to long for the days I did.
I don't want to live my life thinking of what I could have done. Which reminds me of the post I put up a couple of days ago. I chase after things I want (especially love) because I don't want to look back and think, "I could have done that if only I tried." I could have had love if only I would have asked for it.
The only problem is, I feel like I'm a good person. But I didn't get to choose the package I came in. I got to come in this one. And quite frankly, if all I am judged by is how I look (good or bad) then I would rather have the priveledge and honor of being alone for the rest of my life than the curse of being with someone who places emphasis on what I look like. Because seeing that old guy today only reminded me that there will come a day when none of us will look pretty anymore. I'd rather have someone by my side I trusted and cared about, than the most handsome guy I know. I'm okay with being single forever if it means not having to always feel as though I'm not good enough in some way.
Those people who judge people based on looks are the ones I know are the most immature. It doesn't surprise me when I find them, years later, miserable. They found their "perfect mate" but had to pay a price for it in the end. But that's another topic for another blog ...
Meanwhile, enjoy what you have while you have it. Seriously ... we are going to be old and wrinkley and unable to move someday. Guess we'd better be able to enjoy it now.
One final note: I took a walk today and found myself on a trail that leads to the ocean. The vast beauty stretched across the sky and the shore was dotted with boats too small to make out in the distance. The wind was blowing gently, the sky was clear, and a feeling of complete peace overcame me. A lot of scary things have happened lately with my health and personal life and I know that even though I will one day get older, and one day lose my ability to walk across the street because my legs might not taking me, knowing not only that I could have, but that I can will make all the difference. And maybe, fourty years from now will find me trying to cross the sea of cars if only to look for some fleeting adventure on the other side.

Waiting

There is a face in the crowd; a face that is not easily recognizable. It is so common and yet so different. As you pass one another, you see only a smile and the power of it overtakes you and makes you slightly happier than you were only moments before. You can't quite place your finger on it, but there is something there, something on that face that makes it different than all the others that pass before it.
Love is like a smile that lights up a face; it is contagious and recognizable. For those of us still searching for our matching face in the crowd, it is easy to find ourselves picturing what could possibly happen should we ever be graced with it.
I can only describe how I felt when I was in love, the way it overtook me; how it made weeks and months pass like minutes. When I felt as if I was in love, it was as if everything in the world was a little bit brighter, every smell a bit stronger, each sound a harmonious song. Each bit of news, each coversation was an elation, lifting me higher and higher to a place I had never been. Suddenly, every difficult obstacle seemed to be only a positive thought away, every day like a new beginning.
I cannot help but picture and hope for what it may feel like again one day when I am graced with that feeling again. The only problem is, I cannot accept less than someone great.
It's easy to talk about being a good person, and even more difficult to actually be one. Our actions seldom truly match our words and the definition of integrity seems to be lost on so many in society today. Treating each other with respect is a talent lost, and one that I hope to one day find again.
It seems to me that one would be so lucky to have qualities such as kindess and honesty. Why is it that when one enters a relationship, suddenly a tangled web of deceipt and mistreatment suddenly becomes a circular unbreakable pattern?
While I point to the flaws in others, so I too have flaws. Sometimes my heart speaks too much and my logic too little. But the truth beckons me to speak from the voice that cries within my soul. Sometimes it seems impossible to love another human being without wanting anything from them.
But it is love that calls me to speak from my heart. I cannot go from having love to feeling emptiness and expect to bounce back with unaffected exuberance for I am human. Having known what love feels like, I cannot help but wish to find it again. One cannot go from learning the abundance and potential of one's heart and not hope to one day reach that level again.
Yet in a world made difficult by life, and the complications it entails, love does not come in a form we often easily recognize. And sometimes, it passes us by entirely. Sometimes, for all my qualities, talents, and experience, I feel hurt and rejected by those who would only see my flaws. In kind, I hurt and reject those to whom I cannot relate or who I feel are selfish and self-centered.
I cannot help but want someone to love and cherish me, not just pretend to. I can't help but want someone who likes children, loves life, and plans to make the most of it with me. A good life is not created by watching the television night after night expecting to grow.
In the end, as simple as we would try and make it, it is a complicated thing, love. It is full of heartache and sorrow, excitement and adventure, and ups and downs and we may not always enjoy the journey. But I would argue that it is the journey towards love that makes it all worthwhile.
I try to find love, and I give it a chance, because I believe that it can succeed in my life. Through the twists and turns and good and bad, I am willing to be the person who sticks it out, who goes the distance, who stays strong.
The only sense of doubt comes from the unknown. The twisting nether of unknown and often missed opportunities and the chance of loving, but not receiving love in return. Those are the fears. Those are the worries. Those are the chances you take when you reach out for love.
But in the end, it is not so much whether you win or lose the battle. The strength and the power comes from being willing to reach out your hand. To be willing to try ... try to make something work, try to fix something when it goes wrong, try to make it last ... those are qualities and talents we hold out for. Those are the ones we wish to take with us on our journeys. But fear of the unknown holds us back. Fear of rejection, of being alone, of a million other things, prevents us from doing those things we know we want to do.
I have often been criticized for choosing to be alone so long. But that feeling of being in love was worth the rest of a lifetime without it ... I cannot accept a life with anything less. As simple as that answer seems, and as obvious, it is suprisingly not. It is easy to give in to my physical needs and just accept someone who is in the "here and now" and pretend. But I know real love; it is like a beacon of hope in my soul that it is possible to find someone like that again.
So alone I stay until my partner, my teammate, comes into my life. I risk rejection, humiliation, loss, but in the end, I gain humility, courage, and strength. I am proud of those moments I was strong enough to put my best foot forward and attempt to go after something I wanted. We only have a limited supply of time on this planet, and it's about time we started going for what we want.
I would merely suggest that we just choose not to settle. We choose to stick to our plans, stick to ourselves and hold on to the idea that love is out there. We shouldn't lower our standards or trade in our integrity for the gratification of our temporary physical and emotional wants. Because if we aren't careful, we'll find something that will be just the thing we promised ourselves we wouldn't get.
The worse thing we could do is to find a life but miss out on what it feels like to truly know love.
As a final thought, I think that many of us love romantic movies because it paints a picture of what real love is and for just a moment, we get to see a brief glimpse of a powerful feeling. For example, in the movie "City of Angels" one of the most poignant moments come after the death of Maggie (Meg Ryan). Seth (Nicholas Cage) gives up his life as a sort of angel to be a human to share his life with his love. In a particularly emotional moment, a scene finds Seth go into a store and we see the pain on his face as he puts pears into a shopping basket, each one like a haunting memory of the love he had lost. He is asked if he had to do it all over again, would he change anything. His reply is simple, "I would rather have had one breath of her hair, one kiss from her mouth, one touch of her hand, than eternity without it. One. "
That is how I feel about love. And I am willing to risk embarassment, rejection, and heartache to get it again. I just sometimes wish the journey to get there was a little easier and the path a little less rocky. But in the end, it is about finding love, not in the trials it took to get there. So life finds me always here, my gentle heart still hopeful, my soul still willing to be touched. And so, I keep waiting ...

Eternal Sunshine

Eternal Sunshine ... Current mood: creative
So I just saw a really good (but old) movie called "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind." It was probably one of the best movies that I have ever seen. (So watch it!)
In a nutshell, the main two characters (Clementine and Joel) are in a relationship that turns sour. Impulsive Clementine has all memories of Joel erased, and hurting Joel decides to do the same. The only problem is, while his memory is being erased, Joel realizes that he doesn't want to erase her --and tries his best to remember her. Then crazy stuff happens and then ... well, you've got to see it.
It totally gives the viewer and opportunity to see the actuality of what we've all imagined we could do--erase the images of someone who has hurt us, completely from our minds. Take them away, piece by piece, as if they did not exist at all.
I can't even remember how many times I've wished that were possible with certain memories. Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet were absolutely outstanding. I forgot, for just a moment, that I was watching a movie and instead, found myself hoping that somehow Joel Barrish (played by Carrey) would find a way to remember Clementine (Winslet).
What really spoke to me is the fact that often, we all want to forget about someone who has hurt us. But if we were to take away all the memories of that person, we'd take away all the good things we remember about them too.
There are so many times I've wondered what could happen if we could just start over with someone-knowing their flaws, knowing what to watch out for, knowing that in the end, we might not be with them. But just taking the time to enjoy them, enjoy their company, enjoy their presence in our lives. In Joel's case, he had to forget in order to remember what was good. Luckily, he was able to start over--tabula rasa "clean slate."
If only we had the opportunity to start over, or rather, could realize what we have while we have it. But somehow, we slip into patterns that we don't seem to be able to break. It takes something to shake us out of those patterns. Often, it's the break-up itself that changes those patterns-but by then, it's too late. It's too late to take back what was said or take back all the things that have added up to bring you where you are. It's too late to start over. By then, you've already broken up, and you're supposed to be moving on with your life.
The key, I think, was said at some point in the movie. Joel realizes everything he is leaving behind-all of the memories. Oddly enough, he remembers most of the good times (like we all do when we look back) and all of the reasons he fell in love. He admits his mistakes and his fear. After attempting to hide Clementine somewhere in his mind they won't find her, he knows that he doesn't have much time left with her. He has come to the last memory, the last place she exists in his mind. The answer he gives applies to us all.
Clementine simply asks him, "What do we do?"He replies, "Enjoy it."
We may not know who is right for us or how long we might have together. We don't know if tomorrow will bring about an end to the road we've been traveling on or the relationship we've been in. We can only do our best to enjoy every minute of the journey while we're on it. Don't take it for granted while it lasts. Appreciate what you have before it's gone. Enjoy it.

It's Okay

I think it's interesting that as a society, we seem to place a huge emphasis on the idea of being "strong." When something doesn't go our way, we tell each other, "Don't cry about it." "Suck it up." etc. When someone seems to handle things in a stoic, hardened way, we look up to them.
If, on the other hand, they cry or seem to have a difficult time dealing with it, many people will ignore them-because they don't know how to handle the situation. We seem to appreciate things handled in a strong, solid manner-but don't know what to do when we watch someone who can't handle things the same way.
But, I think there is something to be said for the person who can admit defeat, who can, for just a moment, throw themselves a pity party and expect their friends to walk beside them anyway. It's impossible to have a positive outlook on everything-and shame on everyone for thinking we have to! If something crappy happens in your life, whether or not it's your fault, you have the RIGHT to get ticked off about it.
So you're speeding down the freeway and you get pulled over. Sure, you were going about 15 miles over the speed limit and deserved the ticket. So do you have the right to get mad about it? Some would argue no. But I say, of course you do! You have the right to get angry when things don't go your way. You have the right to have a bad day. Just don't be surprised when no one around you knows how to handle it ... because we're taught to "suck it up" and "be strong."
A lot of times, when we end a relationship, we seem to value those people who can get over it easily, whereas those who struggle we pity. But people are allowed to feel however they want to for as long as they want to feel that way. But then again, even if they are allowed to feel that way, there seems to be a limit of how long the friends can listen to the "pity party" before they just throw their hands up and give up.
If something bad happens to you-you're allowed to get pissed off. Throw a pity party. You don't have to be strong in every situation. It's okay to admit defeat. Personally, I respect the person more when they admit that they are having a bad day or having a difficult time dealing with something. Those are the people who realize that they are allowed to feel however they want to, and by sharing how they are feeling, they allow me to understand them better and, if necessary, to help them if I can. Those are the people who are the strong ones. Those people who can act as though nothing bothers them only makes me wonder if they have feelings at all or makes me believe that they are not being honest or real. Those people who share that they are having a bad day risk being rejected and therefore, they are in fact much stronger than those who pretend all the time.
I personally would rather have someone in my life with real problems. I don't mind the pity party every once in a while. In fact, I'll even help you blow up the balloons.

A Random Letter To A Friend

Before I take you back, let me tell you a little about what is going on with me this week. A lot of it is not going to make a lot of sense (as I have yet to explain) but it will give me a place to start...
Tomorrow is another day at work for me. I will rise early and get ready to go to work. The only thing is, it will be difficult, as it always is, to get out of bed. I'll want to get up early-setting my clock for 6:30 a.m. like I do every night before I go to bed. But when 6:30 comes around, I'll hit the snooze button, like I always do, and I'll roll over and go back to sleep.
When I finally do make it to work, I discover that I don't know where to start. There is so much work to be done-and I'm behind as usual. There are at least five to ten messages on my answering machine-parents who want to talk to me about how their children have behaved, teachers informing me of a kid not at school for the entire month, and people wanting to know where their children are and why they have been arrested.
I like my job, but sometimes when the phone rings, I don't want to pick it up. I want to concentrate on all the other things I have to do before I can possibly even attempt to tackle a new task. But inevitably, the loud ring of the phone startles me into the reality that it is part of my job to answer the phone.
Pretty soon, it will be lunchtime. I'll want to go somewhere, get away for my lunch hour, do anything but sit inside in the dungeon where I work that has no windows-but I don't because that will mean I'll have to leave an hour later. Instead, I sit quietly at my desk, munching on whatever I managed to scrape together the night before to bring to work.
I can hear my co-workers talking and laughing down the hall. I want to talk and laugh with them, but there are two obstacles. The first is that I have so much work to do, I fear that spending time talking with them will only prevent me from getting any real work done. And the other obstacle simply is, I don't really feel as though I have a connection with them; sometimes I get the feeling they don't really like me. But then the feeling passes, and I just keep on working.
Pretty soon, the day is over and I gratefully pack my stuff and leave my office much the same as I found it-cluttered with files and odds and ends and tons more work to be done tomorrow. I head up the stairs, finally getting to see light (and see that it is now growing dark outside) and hurry to my car. If I'm lucky, there will be good songs playing on the radio to keep me company on my 40 minute-or so drive home from work. As I drive, my mind wanders to every place you can possibly imagine. I revisit the event of the day, think about the work that must be done tomorrow, and try to hurry home as fast as possible so that I can take Brinkley, my dog, outside before he goes to the bathroom in the house.
I don't want to go back home most of the time-it's cold and empty and I currently live with a roommate who has few morals and even less feelings. But I will talk about him later. I keep thinking, especially lately, of all the friends I left behind in Oregon.
My thoughts shift to my friend Norma (you) who was my very best friend while I was there. I start to feel as though I have let her down, and I am ashamed. I look back on how we used to watch Friends every night, eat ice cream, and laugh about the antics of our days. Times seemed simpler, easier then. Everything seemed all right and so great-before I journeyed off to college. And that, it seems, is where I left myself. Somewhere in the halls of the dorms or perhaps the classrooms, the Sarah that you might remember still stays there, trying to find herself. But it is a journey I would like to take you on. Perhaps together, we can discover what happened and where she went.
I loved my college. It made me feel so important and special that I could attend a college as prestigious and great as Pacific University. My opportunity to live in the dorm was like embarking on an adventure that I had never even dreamed of before. I would be surrounded by people, and for the first time in my life, could do whatever it was I wanted.
My first roommate, Faith, was the kind of roommate we don't want to remember. She had mousy brown hair and a sort of drawn face that made you think that she frowned a lot and her face had stayed that way. She complained about everything. She rearranged her bed to hide the microwave from the Resident Assistant. Her boyfriend was named "Christoper" but he went by the name "Topher." He was enormously tall and had stinky feet. Inevitably, the disgusting smell would find its way to my bed at night and prevent me from sleeping well. Worse, they both snored so loudly, it felt as if an earthquake happened every couple of minutes. I found it especially ironic that Kathy visited not too long after I first moved in-and Faith was away at her parents house. Well, Kathy had this habit of wearing shoes without socks and the wet weather made her old shoes smell obnoxious. So she came and spent the night and wearing a different pair, we came back to my room to discover it smelled like rotten things in my room. So someone got the genius idea to wrap up the shoes in Faith's blanket. I laughed until I cried when Faith casually noted her blanket smelled bad upon her return. I suggested that Topher had "struck again" and never told her the truth.
During this time, I wasn't sure how to make friends. Growing up in a small town caused the inevitable to happen: you have automatic friends because you see every one of your classmates so often. The people you grow up with end up being your friends. At college, there were so many different people, I didn't really know where to start.
A girl named Jodi lived down the hall and her roommate (whose name I can't remember) was obnoxious. Jodi was from Alaska, the state where the male population supposedly outnumbers the female population by 5 to 1 (although Jodi would argue that it was untrue). She was independent, fun-loving, and loved Pepsi. She had quite a collection of cans in her room. Oh, and she loved frogs too. She was short and athletic and had dark skin and eyes; she was very beautiful to me. I liked her instantly.
Another girl, Emma, lived upstairs with a roommate I cannot recall. Somehow, I befriended a girl named "Melissa" whom Emma introduced me to. Emma was trying to be in a sorority "Theta Nu Alpha" and it seemed cool to me, so I asked to try out for it too.
Emma was loud and obnoxious and her nickname was "squeaky" because of the way she squeaked about everything. Everything about her was larger than life. She was a big girl, yet skinny in a strange way that I didn't understand. She was from Reno, Nevada. There were problems with her and her mother and she had a really big anger problem. But underneath it all, Emma was a wonderful, genuine girl.
So we tried out for Theta Nu Alphas together. Of course they said that hazing was illegal, but they made us do it anyway. We had to do stupid stuff all week (I can't remember exactly what now) and it all culminated to a late night trip to Safeway blindfolded and ending at the bathroom where we were supposed to touch "poo" in the toilet (still blindfolded) as a measure of trust. But all it really was was a banana and chocolate sauce. You supposedly got extra points if you ate it. I knew the trick in advance (my friend had clued me in) and still refused to eat the banana. Ewwww…. It was in the toilet after all.
Meanwhile, Faith (my roommate) became more and more obnoxious. She made demands and let Topher sleep over every single night. I wasn't opposed to her having a boyfriend, but why they couldn't sleep in his room was beyond me.
So Emma and I decided to become roommates. She had slowly become a really good friend. And the some of the "sisters" in the sorority Alice and Eliza, were really amazing people.
Part of the way I paid for college was to do the "Federal Work Study" program which enables the student to get a job on campus as a way to pay for part of their tuition. My job was to work in the computer lab several nights a week. Boy did I get an easy, awesome deal. All I had to do was sit in the computer lab and answer questions and make sure no one walked off with any computer goods. The only bad part about it was that sometimes I was stuck there late at night during the evenings and weekends when it was the last place I wanted to be.
I remember one night, a few of my sorority friends camed and "rescued" me shortly before midnight. Alice drove up in her car toting Emma and Eliza and they wanted to get away they said and couldn't leave without me.
The four of us quickly became the best of friends. Alice was the nerd in the group-if you could even call her that. She was short and chunky with dark hair and giant old-lady glasses that were reminiscent of a style that died in the seventies. But she wore them proudly; she was like the mother of the group. She was really smart, loved theater, and was from Arkansas. She came to Pacific University on a free ride; her father worked as the head of campus maintenance. Eliza, whom I grew to respect immeasurably, was tall and thin and had short dark hair that contrasted her milky white skin. She was wild and wacky and always had an opinion on everything. You'd swear there was always a cigarette somewhere nearby because she loved to smoke. It was her thing. She represented to me the sort of wild, unbridled freedom that I always envied.
For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world. We'd go out, the four of us, and sing crazy "Friends" theme songs or whatever. We'd go to Shari's at unimaginable hours just for something to do. We would sit and laugh and make friends with the waitresses who knew us all by first name.
We loved Shari's and The Olive Garden. But things, like time, has a way of changing.
But that story I will share with you another time.

Winds of Change

Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow share their dreams
With you and me
Take me to the magic of the moment
On a glory night
Where the children of tomorrow dream
away in the wind of change--The Scorpions

If you typically asked a person whether or not they liked change, I wonder if the majority would say they like change, or whether or not they prefer things that are stable, routine.
I think most of us like to think we like change. When one politician gets into office and does a poor job, we can't wait to see what the next new person can bring to the table. We can't wait for the change. Sometimes, their term of office seems too long to wait.
I think that we have become such an impatient society that we want others to think that we like change, when in reality, change is difficult.
Change is difficult. Change can't happen overnight. This has been said so often, we cannot forget it. It seems as though adults have a less easier time adapting to change because, I think as we get older, we get more settled into routines that we are comfortable with. Once happy with an everyday adventure, as we age, we begin to prioritize our lives and our time differently. I think that we begin to see time as something we don't have enough of. We rush to have others change, but are slow to change ourselves.
In relationships, some people want to see a change in their partner... but when a change is made, they do not know how to deal with it-because they had become accustomed to the way things used to be as opposed to the way things are.
We want change, we bring about change, but then fight it when it comes around. The couples, it seems to me, who make it-are the ones who adapt to change well and who understand that process.
The question then becomes how to adapt to change when the last thing we want is for things to change. It's easier for us when things stay the same because then we don't worry so much or have to do as much work. For example, in my six year relationship, eventually my boyfriend and I settled into a sort of routine that worked for us as a couple. We'd come home and do our own thing, content to share the same space without constantly feeling the need to be tangled up with each other. The problem was, when change came about-it threw our relationship off.
I was laid-off from my job when it was bought out by another company. Suddenly, I had the opportunity (as scary as it was) to change my career and start over again. But I think that S (as I'll call him) was afraid of change, afraid of how it would affect our routine. Instead of being supportive, he became hurtful and mean and made me feel as though he didn't think I could do it. He actually told me that. "I don't think you're going to like it." he said. "I think you won't be able to handle it." It wasn't just about my getting a new job, it was about the changes it would bring about in our relationship.
I think that when things change in a negative way, it's easier to blame someone or some outside influence or source as the reason for why things went wrong. But the truth of it all is, life and the people in it, are constantly changing. If we want to have someone change but then aren't prepared when they do, then perhaps we should find the answers to our questions within ourselves and really figure out why we do not handle change well.
Personally, I don't think I handle change well. I'd like to think that I used to and that I handle it as well as most. As a person who has never really settled down in one spot, I am constantly in flux, constantly unsettled, changing. My roommate changes, situations adjust, feelings change, etc. and instead of always embracing it, there are times when I too get angry. Part of the reason I became so upset after J left was because it forced me out of a comfortable routine, a routine that I coincidentally loved. It forced me to reevaluate my life and do things a little differently. I had to move, had to make new friends, had to start over. That was a whole lot of change almost overnight.
Part of the reason I feel that some of us get over lost loves slower than others is because I think a part of us is still attached to that routine, to feeling loved, feeling safe, feeling secure in the routine.
I know that I don't always handle change well and it becomes more difficult to adjust to as I get older. In fact, as one ages, I think life beckons us to slow down and change less. We begin to place more emphasis on families, and watching the next generation grow, and place less emphasis on ourselves. Suddenly, change is reserved for those younger and those starting their lives with that same sense of adventure and curiosity that drove us as children.
Today, I realized that one of the driving forces that makes me happy to get out of bed every day knowing that I am going to deal with crappy, cranky, unhappy children in an attempt to fix their lives is because this: since I am no longer able to change as quickly or like it as much, I cannot help but be drawn to those who do or can.
To see the light go on in someone else's heart as they make a realization and make a complete change is so rare, that it feels like a miracle when it happens. It is that miracle that I think parents love witnessing in their children. For example, a child realizes they like horses and so they change. Suddenly a room that was full of Winnie the Pooh is replaced by "My Little Pony" and pictures of wild, dusty places. This change, this enlightenment, is the driving force behind much of what I do.
I see that I have an opportunity, ever so slight, to witness change. To see a child (or teenager) take an opportunity and run with it-really make a positive, healthy change in their life and really realize what it's all about. That sort of self-actualization is so rare in a society that seems to place emphasis on staying the same.
Witnessing the miracle of change makes everything I do worth it. To see a child smile or feel loved or get off drugs, or graduate from high school is a proud moment. To see them realize their full potential is truly an amazing thing. It's truly like witnessing a miracle. How else can you explain a complete change of heart, change of point-of-view, change of a life?
I think that we get angry with change when it doesn't benefit us. But we appreciate change when it brings about what we want. Change is necessary because it helps us grow-even when we don't get what we want. Change helps us be more flexible and helps push us in new directions we had not considered before.
Instead of fearing the journeys we are taking, we should embrace them. But it's easier said than done, I admit. I look at people who are open to change and I look up to them, respect them. When I see someone who's life is in flux, and who deals with it in a positive way, I can't help but appreciate and admire their strength and courage. Those people who flounder and complain with change, truly make me feel that they're not growing and they never will until they see that going in another direction might just be better or more amazing than the path they took to get there.
Meanwhile, I sort of sit back and watch as the people change around me-hoping to see more of these miracles at work, and praying that the ones who can't or won't change will someday see the light. I pray too, that I learn from them, and learn to accept change because like it or not, tomorrow will be different than today, and the winds of change will begin to blow ...
Speaking of which, it reminds me of the song by the Scorpions about the winds of change when the Berlin wall finally went down and brought about a change in Germany. Change can be the thing that breaks down walls and builds up hearts. Let's hope that we never stop changing.
Take me to the magic of the momentOn a glory nightWhere the children of tomorrow share their dreamsWith you and meTake me to the magic of the momentOn a glory nightWhere the children of tomorrow dream awayin the wind of change

The Truth (as I see It)

What a man believes upon grossly insufficient evidence is an index into his desires -- desires of which he himself is often unconscious. If a man is offered a fact which goes against his instincts, he will scrutinize it closely, and unless the evidence is overwhelming, he will refuse to believe it. If, on the other hand, he is offered something which affords a reason for acting in accordance to his instincts, he will accept it even on the slightest evidence. The origin of myths is explained in this way.
--Bertrand Russell
It seems that no one likes to hear the truth. We live in a world where the truth is over-rated and oven down played. Commercials on television portray a world that isn't the truth, but often a world we want it to be-where people are happy and happy endings happen every day. We are encouraged to buy products to make ourselves believe a different sort of truth skewed to our perceptions of what life should be, not what it actually is.
If we actually saw life for what it really is, and faced the truth, many of us couldn't handle it. For that reason, we often expect others to tell us what we want to hear (as in the quote above) because it's easier to believe what we want to hear than the truth.
Now, there's a difference between truth and an opinion. An opinion could be right or wrong-but in the end, it is just an opinion. Even when it comes to sharing opinions, people don't want to hear anything negative.
A lot has changed in my life; I am no longer that little scared girl, constantly afraid of my mother as I once was. But even through my fear, my constant battles, I learned the importance of always telling the truth.
Mark Twain said, "When in doubt, tell the truth." For me, there was no other way to go-because even when I told the truth, Mom didn't believe me. When I lied, she didn't believe me. But more often than not, the truth seemed to make me feel the best. So I just started being honest.
When I went to school, I often told tall tales in my younger years because I wanted acceptance and to be liked. But a situation happened that convinced me that the only way I could avoid trouble was to tell the truth.
The problem is, it's the truth as I see it. This need to be honest, to tell the truth, has carried into my adult life and it has been both a burden and a blessing.
Being honest, even in giving my opinion, is a very delicate matter. The truth of it all is, I should be more cautious sometimes in what I say. In my earnestness to give the truth, I often over-step my bounds as a friend. Worse, sometimes my opinion is wrong. I value knowing people but even my opinion isn't always going to be the way things are or even the way things should be.
I have always sought to give my opinion because I don't think a good friendship or relationship is always built on what a person wants to hear. If we want to hear a bunch of crap, we'll turn on the television. When we turn to our friends, we should want the truth from the people who know us the best.
Henry Ward Beecher says, "It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell your friend his faults. So to love a man that you cannot bear to see a stain upon him, and to speak painful truth through loving words, that is friendship." While I only intend to bring the my opinion to someone out of love and respect for their friendship, I secrety chastize myself when I go too far.
Today is such a day. My secret heart, the one that feels the things I cannot say, cries out and I fear it's so loud, others will hear it. What I mean to say is, sometimes I have to give people my opinion and it hurts me to say it. Sometimes, there are things I wish I was strong enough to say, but cannot.
There are times when my own personal feelings in a particular situation get in the way of the truth or of my wanting to tell them the truth. I fear I might offend them or worse, tell them the truth so bluntly that I appear insensitive or cruel. These are my friends and while they should not be treated with kid-gloves, they are my friends, people whom I've come to know and love. When I see them hurting, I know that they don't want to hear the truth-they want to hear that everything is going to be all right.
When my friends have made a difficult decision, they want to be assured that it was the right one-even when it comes with a cost.
I think it's ultimately important to me that other people know the great struggle that occurs when I actually give them the truth as I see it. I don't say it to be hurtful or mean and I don't consider myself anyone. Who am I? I'm just a friend who cares. But I have feelings.
Sometimes, wanting to say the truth should negate those feelings. Telling my friend who's struggling in a relationship that everything is going to be all right when I don't believe it will be is like lying. I care because they're my friend and I want them to be happy. But I sometimes feel as though I have to hide those feelings instead of telling my friends the truth.
Benjamin Disraeli says, "Never apologize for showing feeling. When you do so, you apologize for the truth." I share with people how I feel so that their lives will be better. I share the truth of how I feel so that they will do the same with me. If I lie to you about how I feel, then what is the point of our friendship? Having someone who is always going to tell you what you want to hear is like having something no more real than a hologram.
Yet, I am not perfect. Sometimes I speak too harshly or I cannot say what I really want to say. Those are the moments when I wonder if I'm truly being a good friend. But in the end, I realize that I'm flawed and I can only try.
I try to give the truth to everyone and sometimes it comes back to bite me later. Perhaps they take it the wrong way or perhaps they don't want my opinion. But I can only aspire to be a better friend by being honest.
I guess the reaosn I bring all this up is because while some view honesty as a gift, I view it as a curse sometimes. When there's someone in my life who I'm interested in, for example, I think I expect myself to be honest. Being honest would mean admitting to them (and to myself?) that I like them. It would mean putting it all out there, risking getting rejected, just in my earnest attempt at honesty. The moment comes, and then it passes. Somehow my mouth doesn't utter any words of that truth. I think when that moment passes, it's as if the guy understands. It's as if a golden opportunity has come and gone.
So to give an example, there's someone I've liked for quite a while. No point in giving names, except I'll give him a letter R. We have technically known each other for a couple of years. When we're around each other, he'll ask my opinion about someone and I'll tell him. But when that moment comes to be bold and flirty, I back away. I want to tell him the truth, but I can't. So a couple of months ago, it seemed like the opportunity came around again, and I said nothing. And now, he doesn't really talk to me anymore. He'll call me when he wants my opinion, my truth on something, but it's as if the chasm between us widens with each step. Why is it that I can be so honest with everyone except those I really care about?
I want to tell them how wonderful they are, but accidentally, inevitably, tell them the complete opposite. I think that, having observed my honesty, my outgoing personality, that they assume that if I liked them, I'd make some type of overt move, some type of statement such as, "I like you." But in the end, my fear comes out and my honesty is restricted to everyone else.
Worse, I have even felt as though I've helped certain relationships grow stronger when I personally felt as though it wouldn't work in the end. I don't even know how to explain that. It's almost as if I am so shy, I'd rather help a guy find someone great even when my secret heart won't admit that I like him.
One time, I helped a guy friend of mine (who I guess I really liked) find a girl whom he ended up almost marrying. When he'd ask my opinion about things, I wanted to tell him the truth which was, "I like you and would treat you better than that." But the truth never slipped out. What came instead was, "I'll help you with that."
I think it all goes back to the fact that we'd rather not hear the truth. I think I want to hear the truth, but I am not so sure that I want to hear that familiar sound of rejection, of admitting that someone doesn't see the potential in me. Instead, I play the part of the ever vigilant friend. Being a friend is much easier than being rejected. I guess the truth is, I don't want to hear the truth. I don't want to hear that I'm not pretty enough, thin enough, or good enough in some other way. So I'd rather just be a friend, accepted, trusted so that I get to enjoy their company that way.
As far as my friends are concerned, I tell them the truth because I love them and because even when it's hard for me to hear the truth, I still need to know it. Because knowing the truth of how someone feels might make me a better person, might make me realize things about myself that I want to change, might make me grow.
And as for me, someday, I'm hoping that someone will see the truth in me. Perhaps in seeking the truth, we'll both find our paths lie together. They will give me the honest truth, and will see the truth in me-and my fears will be unimportant because the truth will shine through. They'll see love in my expressions, and even when I completely mess it up (which is probably pretty often) they'll still love me. Even when I can't tell them I care about them, because I'm too afraid of rejection, they'll see the truth of my heart underneath.
Perhaps what we all need is a little more honesty, a little more truth. But that requires respect for one another and unconditional love. But don't take my word for it. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality. This is why right, temporarily defeated, is stronger than evil triumphant."Unarmed truth simply means truth without harm. I aspire to bring truth without harm. Becuase the truth, even when difficult to hear and rejected, is stronger than a lie. And the truth, as I see it, is that we all deserve to be loved. We deserve love from our relationships and our friends. Even if that means we don't always get to hear what we want to.