Listening to: You’re a Rich Girl – Hall & Oats
Generally Sundays are overrated with The Simpsons’ reruns followed by a very exhaustive eight am start. Today, I am convinced that a Sunday is only made better by the accompaniment of a good dinner, Grey’s Anatomy and a holiday the following day. Failing that, a highly suspect probably illegal U-Turn, an almost run in with a suspicious looking patrol car and the frightful scare of the driver not carrying her driver’s license would do it.
One of my friends has a roomate (unfortunately) that seems to spend most of her waking hours dissing her cheerfully about almost everything – her weight, her hair, the fact that she carries compact powder… yes, because last time I checked, carrying compact powder is enough to get you hurled into the deepest recesses of Shameville with the rest of society treating you like you have something akin to leprosy.
Yes, I said compact powder, not leprosy. I’m sorry I forgot we still live in the Dark Ages where women still check their reflection in clear streams of running water (if ever).
Anyway I digress. Point is, she’s getting sick of it (as any sane compact-carrying person would) and I told her the best thing to do is to just be forthcoming with her about it. We’re all adults, if she can’t stand that your hair is messy, either she learns to deal with it or she can move out. Shape up or ship out, or whatever.
My friend is howeverunderstandably reluctant and with good reason; a fight with a friend is bad enough, a fight with a roomate would be detrimental. To me, confrontations were the last thing I used to practice because I could never see the point. Plus they used to scare me shitless.
As I grew older however, I realised that if I had any dignity at all, I could not and should not allow people to erode that. If I allowed them to do so by keeping silent, they would - whether they did so knowingly or not. They have every right to know that I did not appreciate them having a field day with my emotions when I had done nothing to deserve it.
My first attempt at this came rather surprisingly and was aimed at a friend who would, inadverdently, tell me every morning that I looked way too tired and was I getting enough sleep because there were suitcases under my eyes (or something to that effect). Now, she meant well, but I dragged my sorry behind into class everyday to battle another day of work and did not mean to be told, on top of everything else, that I looked like crap doing it.
So I told her quite honestly but gently that I did not appreciate being told that every single day and that I was trying but would she please lay off. Truth be told, she never meant to sound condescending or hurtful but she was, and she immediately apologised and the subject never arose again and we remain great friends till today.
A good friend once told me that when you confront a person, never say “I hate it when you…” because then it sounds accusational and sounds like you’re being hostile. Try to incorporate “emotion” followed by “action“. E.g. “I feel upset when you say that I look tired and lifeless every single day.” It’s amazing how a difference of a few words makes a world of change. By removing the intention of seeming hostile and infusing it with gentle honesty, it helps reduce what could seem like an already negatively charged environment and increases the odds of both parties reaching a positive solution.
And that’s what I’ve tried ever since with some astounding results. It’s amazing how many people inadverdently say things that they don’t mean.
And then there are others, who are just asking for it. There’s a guy in my course who used to constantly talk to me as though I was walking with air between my ears. I.e. he treated me like I was some bimbo with no reason or excuse to be doing the degree that I was doing. Okay, so I make the ocassional lame jokes and have been known to laugh loudly and giddily at many if not all things, but that doesn’t mean that he had a right to talk to me as though I was born yesterday with nothing much going on in the attic, if you know what I mean.
In short, the mister kept talking to me like I was stupid. Correction, more like he was talking at me. And I’m sorry and I don’t mean to blow my own trumpet, and admittedly I am a lot of things – blur, crazy, delayed, ADD – but I am not stupid. And he ain’t even my friend so who died and made him judge?
Three times he disrespected me in public; the first time I reacted with shock because I seriously couldn’t believe such pompous arrogant fools still existed. The second time, I was shocked once again, because I couldn’t believe he’d done it again! I spent a long time fuming with rage everytime he did it because he sincerely believed he had me pegged.
The next time he did it however, the shit came down. It was some stupid thing and he casually joked, “Yeah, how dare you?” to which I replied loudly, “Yeah, what are ya gonna do about it?” with my most convincing Italian “bring it honey, you just asking for a beating now” voice.
Yeah it may seem funny but he shut the hell up. And I spent the rest of the day in a smile. And he doesn’t bug me anymore.
So you see, I spent most of my life being bullied and emotionally traumatised by a lot of people who didn’t know any better. But I know better, and at least now that I know that, I can begin to take care of myself.
As we all should. Our honor and dignity is all that we have and if we begin to let others to take it from us without at least putting up a fight, what would we have left?