A year ago, she wrote a 6-page, single-space letter sharing her concerns about my life, how the choices I've made were poor ones. I knew her heart, and I knew her loving intent. But I was proud for becoming who I am still becoming. And she would only feel pity.
I don't blame her, really. And yet, I still couldn't respond.
So this afternoon, I return to my desk to find a beautiful voicemail. A broken voice from a friend who still loves me deeply. "You've been heavy on my heart," she said, and that "I'm praying for you. I love you no matter what."
I know that. I really do. But I just can't stomach the kind of love that is infused with pity and restlessness and concern and mournfulness for something lost. I appreciate it, yet I do not wish to be so near to it anymore. I love who I am today, and she won't understand that.
So, I am frozen. I don't want to respond. It would be too difficult to hear her disappointment travel thousands of miles through a telephone line.
I may be the only person who really reads this blog. But if there is someone - anyone - who understands what I'm going through, say you do.
Posted by ruth at August 26, 2002 06:23 PM
Comments
I think we've all, to varying degrees, made decisions that others felt were wrong. And to those others, it's hard to reconcile the conviction of their beliefs with what should also be their unmitigated desire for you, a friend, to be happy.
I have been told, more than once, by people who I have no doubt care for me that they're essentially "mourning" for me, for being lost, for being misguided, for ultimately going to hell. There is indeed an element of pity, sometimes tinged with condescention. But in many cases, as I suspect in yours, the concern, the fear for you is genuine, heartfelt, and thus heartbreaking. And that's hard to brush off.
How many times, in the same situation, would other so-called friends who disagree with our choices and our path simply use that divergence as an excuse to give up, to leave our side, to become again strangers, or even adversaries? That, to me, is oftentimes the weaker path, though perhaps harder on us...
It's a different kind of friend who won't stop loving even despite disappointment and doubt. More enduring, like that of a parent, perhaps, who may hate everything his or her child does but still weep - however misguided the perception and how happy the child might actually be.
In my own case, some of the friends who thought I was lost came around, and rejoiced in my own joy. The others gave up and stopped calling.
It may be depressing, and probably fruitless, to reestablish contact, to open up, to again attempt to convey that the love is mutual but that the disappointment is unfounded - that the choices that so concerns her are exactly the ones that are bringing you to where you want to be, to happiness and fulfillment, and that she on that basis should be happy for you. But I'd do it anyway.
She's trying to reach out, so there's at least a small chance of a renewed and better connection. As long as your resolve and satisfaction with your path, I wouldn't fret over being brought too far down.
Posted by: Ryan on August 28, 2002 10:51 AM
I have been told, more than once, by people who I have no doubt care for me that they're essentially "mourning" for me, for being lost, for being misguided, for ultimately going to hell. There is indeed an element of pity, sometimes tinged with condescention. But in many cases, as I suspect in yours, the concern, the fear for you is genuine, heartfelt, and thus heartbreaking. And that's hard to brush off.
How many times, in the same situation, would other so-called friends who disagree with our choices and our path simply use that divergence as an excuse to give up, to leave our side, to become again strangers, or even adversaries? That, to me, is oftentimes the weaker path, though perhaps harder on us...
It's a different kind of friend who won't stop loving even despite disappointment and doubt. More enduring, like that of a parent, perhaps, who may hate everything his or her child does but still weep - however misguided the perception and how happy the child might actually be.
In my own case, some of the friends who thought I was lost came around, and rejoiced in my own joy. The others gave up and stopped calling.
It may be depressing, and probably fruitless, to reestablish contact, to open up, to again attempt to convey that the love is mutual but that the disappointment is unfounded - that the choices that so concerns her are exactly the ones that are bringing you to where you want to be, to happiness and fulfillment, and that she on that basis should be happy for you. But I'd do it anyway.
She's trying to reach out, so there's at least a small chance of a renewed and better connection. As long as your resolve and satisfaction with your path, I wouldn't fret over being brought too far down.
Posted by: Ryan on August 28, 2002 10:51 AM
Wow Ryan,
What insight. I have the resolve to speak with her again, after over a year of silence. But I'm cringing at the thought. I like what you said about stating how happy I am, despite how fruitless it may be. Your comparison to her love being like that of a parent is right on. I feel like it'll always be that way.
I just need to breathe deep from time to time.
Thanks for your thoughts, Ryan
Posted by: ruth on August 28, 2002 03:02 PM
What insight. I have the resolve to speak with her again, after over a year of silence. But I'm cringing at the thought. I like what you said about stating how happy I am, despite how fruitless it may be. Your comparison to her love being like that of a parent is right on. I feel like it'll always be that way.
I just need to breathe deep from time to time.
Thanks for your thoughts, Ryan
Posted by: ruth on August 28, 2002 03:02 PM
