Does time heal everything?! (No, consistency does)!

I’m presented with an interesting challenge. At this exact moment, there is another wave of people from my past that are resurfacing. There is a moderate chance it’s because I have been blasting my social media with living large (back to my globetrotting ways). My experience is that harmful people come out to play when they think that I’m at peace. Their only mission is to disrupt my peace, if anything to see if they can extract an emotional reaction from me. Many times, I’ve been told that I’m adorable when my nostrils are flaring. *eyeroll*

I [mostly] stopped reacting. I respond. The past few weeks have been enormous for me to flex my “NO” muscle. Sounds strange but the first few times, I had all sorts of negotiations in my mind when people from the past resurface. Do they qualify to be in my life? Am I being harsh? Will I hurt their feelings by saying ‘no’? “YES” is how to experience magic, or have some fantastic growth opportunities. “NO” is living in fear. Maybe this person has changed? I owe it to them to give them a chance? wait, I owe others NOTHING. I owe it to myself to acknowledge that zebras cannot change their stripes. When people reveal their true nature, believe them. Actions over words. There is a lot to think about. I’m not 100% sure about my intuition when it comes to people of my past because as much as I’d hate to admit, there is an emotional connection. If anything, nostalgia.I’m well aware that my intuition is clouded when emotions are involved. My clear messaging is that narcissists are OK as long as they are not in my heart space. The operative concept being NOT IN MY HEART SPACE.

So does this bother me? Bother isn’t the right word. Disrupt my peace? Not really. It gives me pause to reflect. Observe my body. Is there a change? Is my heart rate elevated? Are my nostrils flaring? My mind isn’t thinking about the harm they once caused, to remember, I have to dig into my archives to read my notes. Everyone has notes. If I remove someone, it means that I gave them a series of chances to be worthy. Worthy of sharing my space. Worthy of my time. Everyone has notes because I refuse to keep these insignificant memories in any part of my being. As a matter of fact, my entire writing journey has been to actively extract the hidden memories in the depths of my heart and soul.

So a high school friend made a few insensitive remarks. He was removed earlier this year. I was kind on the first round AND the second round. His failure to acknowledge his insensitivity or follow simple instructions resulted in my removing the rose colored lens and telling him that he isn’t worthy of having a direct conversation about my abuse. Read the blog. I’m actively removing the insensitive people from my life, and his expectation is that he’s good enough to make the cut? Interesting. Unfiltered push back. I should have just wished him well and blocked him but thought, since he asked (multiple times, why not share what’s in my heart). For me, this was a fail. I need to learn that no response is the most powerful response.

A different high school friend actively caused harm during my downward tailspin. In 2014, I was in a bad place for the first time in my life. I had overcome family abuse but was blindsided by abuse from friends. My downfall was because of my inability to know who to turn to during a moment of need. Admittedly, I’m not one to reach out because of this exact reason. But in my world, if someone asks for help, then it’s my duty as a friend to show kindness and my duty as a human being to show dignity. I was offered neither. When I sought clarification on the matter, I was told some pretty harsh things.

A high school boyfriend has done the same. He’s just a piece of shit though. I fail to see any good in this sad excuse of a human being. Knowing that I still find the humanity in an abusive father, this sentence carries a LOT of weight. There is nothing generous about this person other than the ability to give out heartache and trouble. Nothing positive.

I’ve accepted a trend. It appears to be common in my world; someone will cause me harm then wait me out. Knowing that I have a volcano within, they will step back to allow me to cool off. Then when they think I’ve forgotten the wrong caused, they will hoover and sneak back into my space. I’ve found the power in “NO” to help remind me of their true colors. Or stripes. So far, when I tell someone ‘NO’ they do not know how to respond. If I’ve only ever told them ‘yes’ or ‘no problem’ or ‘sure, why not’ then I’ve just changed the dynamic of the interaction. I’ve taken my power back. I’ve put myself in a position to acknowledge that they represent fuckery and I’m no longer willing to accept it.

I will not be abused. I will not accept abusive people. I will continue to live and let live… but people that step into my lane will be used as content in my blog. My only decision if whether to add the full name of someone causing me harm. Or trying to at least. Still a worthwhile decision… to name or not to name?

My life is pretty freaking amazing and this next wave is going to test my emotional kung fu. I know what is happening. I feel all the feels. I know I have something they want. Am I willing to give it to them? My acceptance reinforces they are decent human beings. Am I willing to help them hold up a mask to fool others? Have they actually been able to change their stripes or am I just a tool to make them appear normal?

Today, I’m not an enabler. I’m a fighter. I’m a writer. I’m a person that doesn’t give two shits about other people that come into my space. My love is reserved for me before others. And I’ve earned that right to not only stand up for myself but to defend all the hard work of purifying my space on so many levels.

Does an apology carry weight? No. Words are useless. I can only hear actions. Yes. I can only hear actions.

Does time heal everything? Yes. Time allows me to breathe. It allows me space to see if stripes have changed. If they have, then I will see consistency of amazing. Consistency of awe. I do not claim to have that much patience but the reality is that if I can wait 13 years for my biological father to change his stripes before giving up, or if I can work for 6 years before making a professional goal a reality… then I actually have more patience than I give myself credit. It’s now a matter of having a clear lens as opposed to a rose coloured one. And for that, people that have harmed me will have to do a considerable amount of work to get back into my good graces. I applaud that I have standards. Finally.

As for the people that simply cannot be their best version, I encourage them to read Dear Mentally Unwell person, Thank you.

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #Abuse #Recovery #WhyITri #IamWorthy #SelfCare #JourneyToPeace

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