I think it’s quite likely that the reason I am who I am because I accept disappointment naturally. When someone else fails me , it doesn’t disappoint me the way the others do. I accept the failure and move on without emotional drama. I think this is what people may call it going.
Don’t get me wrong. I can still hate it and get frustrated when somebody cancels a plan at the last minute, or changes the plan drastically. I hide my anger and move on. At least, I believe I do. It is a choice to accept Disappointment naturally as an expected outcome. It happened. Making the person feel bad about it doesn’t resolve or help anyone.
I admit it may count as a point in my mental scoreboard, and never be forgotten, but I try my best to not cause hard feelings. In truth, I know what it’s like to have to change plans, and I give them the respect of assumption that the reason was valid, and they feel at least somewhat bad for the inconvenience. Nothing beyond “I’m sorry” is required, and I reply; “No worries” or “No prooooblem”.
If you do it often, I simply change my mental preparedness to assume change or failure. I lose a few respect points for that person, and then accept it as a part of who they are. A fair percentage of my circle of friends have issues with mental health, myself included of course.
I don’t like to fight. I don’t like unnecessary drama, and I especially hate making people uncomfortable or inconvenienced. It goes against my core.
Conversely, I am extra pleased when things work out as expected and my friends or clients retain full respect. My father had a time obsession and it a proud tradition I inherited. Being on time is the easiest way to be respectful. A good lesson I am sad, when I there’s clearly don’t, as standard practice. I’m sure we all have at least one contact you know will be late. For anything. To me, it’s a huge sign of disrespect, but it’s a part of who they are, and so I adapt and move on.
In cases like that, I certainly make my views known once ir twice, but not ever time. I never like to match tardy Rep to nag rap.
That sentence distracted me. It’s not perfect. /edit note
I spent a few hours today with my most outstanding friend. We boarded on deep conversation on this visit, and it was one of best visits. We are as opposite as could be, but it works, at least in shirt spurts. An amazing women who has had control of her own destiny for, it seems a bit like ever.
I met Star via a voice ad, and despite being a city away, she buses to Toronto to spend an activity day together. I don’t remember how long we’d chatted on the phone, but I do remember that this was, as is my story, not a real date, but a friend date, eve before meeting. I visually remember seeing her imerge from the subway below ground, see me, and before the highest of welcome, she says, oh yeah, we won’t be having sex, but with the inflection this was a design reached at that moment, not as a prepared date prefix statement.
The rule was set. Yet another no touch best friend.
C was, and still is an odd one. Even among my group of misfit friends, she stood out. She had a freedom about her, and it was clear she’d lived a somewhat sheltered life, except without realizing it. She saw her universe without awareness of how others saw her in their universe, and it was her superpower.
At least that’s the way I interpreted it, because I live in everyone else’s universe full time, and it can be exhausting, but certainly very limiting.
My friend D has similar powers I don’t process, but C’s sometimes shocking in awareness of personal space, combined with her self confidence that pre assumed you’ll like her, she was a fascinating perspective to watch.
I was constantly shocked at how she existed with people. She just talked to anyone and everyone as if she knew them for years. The kind of conversation you might have with your next door neighbour, she would have with the people in line ordering a burger.
It was jarring, and my empathic imagination and ability to attribute body language and micro expressions to negative feelings, I was often terrified, and so sad for her audience or victims. I had to look away as she’d ask a lady in the store trying on hats what she thought of this book she’d just read about the hats used by African school teachers… Or some similar topic much deeper or personal than conventional conversation with a stranger. Many were so startled, I sensed fear.
D decided he couldn’t be around her when she touched a strangers hair as we stood in line for food. She just reached out and startled fondling some very smooth hair.
Now in hindsight, years later I see she may have been closer to accepted norm that I was. My terror of inconvenience keeps me reasonably silent to strangers, although I will often speak in support, or to go for a punchline. Those choices only get through my don’t interrupt rule.
Moro gone,. The end