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  1. Smiles Don't Hang in My Closet

    Tuesday, July 7, 2015


    After someone raged at me verbally on the phone some time ago and told me not to call, email, or text any long messages, she went on to text me obsessively the next day -- long texts. 
    I was noticing that the worse accusations and descriptions someone did of me, the more they regretted it.  I saw the explosion as a big window into how the person really feels.  (Sometimes it is obviously a self-portrait.  Rare to find people who know themselves well enough not to have to do that.)  They make it easier for me to let them go.  It’s usually someone I’d made allowances for in my head in spite of some of their behavior.  Typically I’ve defended them or made excuses for them to people who they turned off.  (I’m still learning and will continue to as long as my brain works.  It’s more of an emotional learning than a reading comprehension thing.  I read very well.  That isn’t the problem.)
    So, being we had to work together again, I remained civil on my end.  I also saw that much of what this person said to me were projections as I’m sure these were things that had been said to her.  Many of the things fit her more than they did me.  I felt like I met the emotionally abusive side of her mother.  I do believe she meant some of what she said.  Much was meant to be hurtful as opposed to helpful.  I was relieved in a way to hear many of my suspicions confirmed.  Phoniness is more disturbing and eerie to me than many things.  It felt better in a way to have heard her rage than her fake niceties.



              “Well, it’s good to know how you really feel.  See you at the show.  It'll be your last show as you stated.  Bye.”  I ended the call but never raised my voice or anything.  I could, in those silent seconds, hear her regret.
    For whatever reasons, she needed to push me away.  Okay.  I accepted that.  I had my own reasons to feel it was a blessing in disguise.
    The next day, her texts came in waves.  Six at a time.  (It’s possible it was less on her end but I get a limited amount of characters in a text, so it continues in another text.)  She shared what her day had been like the day before (which involved being with the family she came from and under stressful conditions – then I felt even more sure I met her mother in a way), but she never said she was sorry, never acknowledged dumping it on me, never owned what she did.  That’s her m.o.  Her texts sounded like a child desperately not wanting the person she dissed to be mad at her.  She kept finding ways to kiss my ass.  She said whatever she thought I’d want to hear.  If she had meant it, it would be a whole different story and I wouldn’t think of it as ass-kissing.  I felt disgusted, and I also felt sorry for her, but I didn’t answer her texts until I thought I should let her know I received them.  I thought maybe then she’d stop.  So I sent a text saying, “Ok.”  It stopped for a few hours.
    Later, another wave of texts came.  She claimed she was praying for me.  Oh Lord.  I was tempted to tell her to keep her prayers to herself.  Based on the things she had said the day before, I was sure she’d be praying for the wrong stuff.  She tried many things I guess in an attempt to make me not angry with her.  But she didn’t try anything like, “I said some awful things to you yesterday, you didn’t deserve  it, and I am so sorry.”  Though I still probably wouldn’t want more to do with her, if it were sincere, she’d still be sorry for how she behaved to me.  It wouldn’t be based on if she got what she wanted or not. 
    At some point, I again needed her texts to stop.  I texted, “I’m not fighting with you.  I heard you clearly yesterday.  We will get through the show.”
    Maybe my calm resolve bothered her.  She texted again.  “Life is short. Wear a smile.”
    Now she was pushing it, really pushing it.  That was the moment it took so much not to tell her, “Fuck you.  I smile when something makes me smile.  Now if you wear a tampon up your ass, that would be funny and make me smile.”
    No, Mindy, don’t.  She’s a victim of herself.  Let it be.  She wears smiles.  It looks mask-like. We all cope in whatever way we can.  Don’t even say a thing. 
    But today when I watched this video someone sent me, I was reminded of that.  I couldn’t help but think that’s who wears smiles – the wife of a serial rapist portraying an unreal image of marital bliss.

     

     
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  2. 4 comments:

    1. WOW! Healthy Boundaries are necessary for a Healthy Life. Take Good Care of yourself, YOU are WORTHY!

    2. I'd be worried about me if I smiled on demand. Even as an actress, if you just 'wear' a smile, it is bad acting. The mouth is stretched, teeth are showing, but the eyes are not smiling. It's eerie when people do that in real life. So even in an acting role, one is supposed to connect with something that really makes you smile. Then the smile (if it genuinely appears) is believable. Believable is good acting. Cosby's wife makes me sad. She wears a plastered smile while her husband refuses to answer about any of the many rapes he committed. The person I had the conflict with would probably respect Mrs. Cosby wearing a smile. I would respect her spitting in the face of Mr. Cosby. It's a basic personality difference.

    3. Rhonda said...

      Jeez, that much texting could cause carpal tunnel & blow up your data usage!

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