JUST A THOUGHT: There is no shame in believing a lie, for a
time, either by fashion or by design. The real shame only comes in holding
tight to what never was and never will be, and by choice living a lie that makes you a liars
willing victim. GLENDA ALEXANDER
I never whine here about things that've happened to me and I never will... keeping my posts free of specifics gives them a one size fits all functionality that they wouldn't possess otherwise. If this were a place where I hungered for pampering I'd spill my guts and suck up all the sympathy. But don't bother feeling sorrow for me... and don't get trapped into feeling over-sorry for yourself either. Overdosing on poor little ole me's or poor pitiful you's spoon fed by other people define you by whatever sorrow you're wallowing in at any given moment. Wouldn't you rather be lifted up by triumph than held down by destructive self-pity or mishandled empathy?
Empathy is meant to create a kinship, uniting us against a common foe. It gathers us together as a group and it can also inspire a gathering up of all the scattered pieces of self. Carefully tended wounds recreate, rehydrate, and rehabilitate the valiant warrior who's determined to keep on fighting for a life worth the living. And what a miracle the healing becomes as it fuses what was bruised and broken into an armor of superior strength.
You have to stomp some grapes to make wine; suffering is required to make mending necessary... and mend you must, or what's the point? Sour grapes make for spoiled wine. All the effort in the world won't alter that into anything worth ingesting. Pure waste is anything but pure. If someone feeds you a line and you swallow it, hook, line, and sinker then the sooner you spit it out the safer you'll be. If it leaves a nasty taste then take a bite of something sweet and move on. No matter what amount of time you spent dangling on the hook it only matters that you got smart enough to get free.
You began life believing that everyone was worthy of trust... that doesn't make you stupid. Loving someone doesn't insulate you against abuse. Loving a less than honest person doesn't make you stupid either. But expecting a predator to morph into a creampuff can make you appear simpleminded. The liar owns most of the blame and all of the shame... even though they rarely care enough to shoulder either.
I'd wager that all of us have some measure of experience to draw memory from on this subject. I'd also safely bet that if wanting to believe created the truth there would be a sudden worldwide shortage of liars. Neither gender holds a monopoly upon forked tongues. Don't believe past the point of no return. Don't trust past the point of lasting damage to your soul or exhaust yourself by attempting to build something solid with flawed material. As soon as your soul begins whispering hard truths then face your own reality and turn your back on the lies.
Second chances are a gift... third one's too if you see progress of a positive sort. But hoping forever is a pure donation of your life to lies in a fairytale with no happy ending. I wasted years I can never get back to a life full of secrets and bold faced lies. I gave up resenting that fact years ago when I began finding then living my own truth. Wisdom is gained by heartache and strain. A liar made me much wiser than I would've been if life had been different. The tools I have for survival were forged in that fire, and for that at least I'm most grateful. If anyone who reads here has need to borrow what I know until they own some tools of their own I'd be most honored to be of service. Think about it... let it ride... then YOU decide!!!
I never whine here about things that've happened to me and I never will... keeping my posts free of specifics gives them a one size fits all functionality that they wouldn't possess otherwise. If this were a place where I hungered for pampering I'd spill my guts and suck up all the sympathy. But don't bother feeling sorrow for me... and don't get trapped into feeling over-sorry for yourself either. Overdosing on poor little ole me's or poor pitiful you's spoon fed by other people define you by whatever sorrow you're wallowing in at any given moment. Wouldn't you rather be lifted up by triumph than held down by destructive self-pity or mishandled empathy?
Empathy is meant to create a kinship, uniting us against a common foe. It gathers us together as a group and it can also inspire a gathering up of all the scattered pieces of self. Carefully tended wounds recreate, rehydrate, and rehabilitate the valiant warrior who's determined to keep on fighting for a life worth the living. And what a miracle the healing becomes as it fuses what was bruised and broken into an armor of superior strength.
You have to stomp some grapes to make wine; suffering is required to make mending necessary... and mend you must, or what's the point? Sour grapes make for spoiled wine. All the effort in the world won't alter that into anything worth ingesting. Pure waste is anything but pure. If someone feeds you a line and you swallow it, hook, line, and sinker then the sooner you spit it out the safer you'll be. If it leaves a nasty taste then take a bite of something sweet and move on. No matter what amount of time you spent dangling on the hook it only matters that you got smart enough to get free.
You began life believing that everyone was worthy of trust... that doesn't make you stupid. Loving someone doesn't insulate you against abuse. Loving a less than honest person doesn't make you stupid either. But expecting a predator to morph into a creampuff can make you appear simpleminded. The liar owns most of the blame and all of the shame... even though they rarely care enough to shoulder either.
I'd wager that all of us have some measure of experience to draw memory from on this subject. I'd also safely bet that if wanting to believe created the truth there would be a sudden worldwide shortage of liars. Neither gender holds a monopoly upon forked tongues. Don't believe past the point of no return. Don't trust past the point of lasting damage to your soul or exhaust yourself by attempting to build something solid with flawed material. As soon as your soul begins whispering hard truths then face your own reality and turn your back on the lies.
Second chances are a gift... third one's too if you see progress of a positive sort. But hoping forever is a pure donation of your life to lies in a fairytale with no happy ending. I wasted years I can never get back to a life full of secrets and bold faced lies. I gave up resenting that fact years ago when I began finding then living my own truth. Wisdom is gained by heartache and strain. A liar made me much wiser than I would've been if life had been different. The tools I have for survival were forged in that fire, and for that at least I'm most grateful. If anyone who reads here has need to borrow what I know until they own some tools of their own I'd be most honored to be of service. Think about it... let it ride... then YOU decide!!!
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