Why Should I Care?

                                I gotta say this could very well be one of the best things you could teach your kid (language aside). 

Before I begin, I just have to say that this scene still cracks me up!  I have to admit that I did receive a speech very similar if not identical to this from him on many occasions in my life.  Seeing as how it was so colorfully stated, you’d think I’d have really taken it to heart.  I think on some level I did, but alas, as Ced the Entertainer described Luther Vandross’ curl in the Kings of Comedy; it just “wasn’t quite right” with me.  I listened to what he said, but I didn't really hear it.  How could I?  I didn't really know what I was listening to because I hadn't really experienced it yet.

  So this past Sunday was Father’s Day and I must admit it was a semi-bittersweet day for me.  It’s amazing how this one day never seemed like a big deal to me until my father passed away.  If he were alive, odds are we might not have even spent the day together.  Oh sure I would have seen him to give him his card and gift (which would probably would have been some crazy novelty gift like a magic trick from his favorite magic store, a laughing pin, or something grotesque like a farting monkey—he really did love that stuff), but he probably would have gone off to do his own thing like play golf, or go to the gun range, or better yet, go sit on his boat. And that would have been fine because I would have said “It’s your day and you should spend it as you want.”  But now all I want to do is spend the day with him.   I’m so eerily aware of the fact that my reason for celebrating the day is no longer on this physical plane and the only thing I can say about that is that it sucks.  Yet in the midst of it all, as weird as it sounds, I can honestly say that I felt pretty darn good.  I’m grateful that I’m now at the point in my grief where I can smile more than I cry.  I can feel grateful for the time we spent together rather than feel sad for the time we don’t get to share.  I was able to fondly remember so many of our infamous head to head moments and laugh as I recognize just how much alike we truly are.  And even now, I can still hear him talking to me.  What he was speaking of in the above scene is so fitting because for quite a while, that was one of the things I could hear him telling me. 

Everyone who has passed high school (well nowadays, everyone who’s at least made it to the 5^th grade) has experienced not being liked or being negatively talked about.  And let’s be honest, it isn’t a good feeling to know that people are using less than flattering words to talk about you.  More times than not, it’s usually easier to brush off the negative remarks of others if we: don’t like or know the person, can find something equally or even more disparaging to say about the other person.  But why must we resort to playing games or the tit for tat tactics in order to be at peace with what someone else says about us?  In other words, why should we or why do we even care?

I’ve heard it said that you only care about what someone says about you because you think it’s true.  I’m not so sure I entirely agree with that.  I think there are moments where that can be true, but overall, I think most times it just hurts.  It hurts to hear negative (especially negative and false) comments about you. It especially hurts when you know the intent of such comments is to tear you down.  I know I had a terrible time dealing with the after shock of other’s negative comments about me.  And I struggled mainly because I was a grade A people pleaser who only wanted juices and berries, no chemicals in my life (Shout Out to Prince Akeem!). I was very guilty of thinking that other people were like me, so I couldn’t imagine sitting around talking negatively about someone just for the fun of it, just out of spite, jealousy, or my own misery. And for me, the negativity has always had a tendency to come not from those with whom I have minimal to no connection with, but those who at one point were closest to me.  My dad always warned me that no one has the power to hurt you like those closest to you.  I understand that today more than ever. 

You see my dad was my protector.  He protected me from a lot of drama and BS.  Folks didn’t play around him.  They knew he could be a force to reckon with (plus he was rich) so most of the time, people were on their best behavior.  While I knew there would be people who would want to use me, or who wouldn’t like me, I didn’t think those people would be close to me.  Oh boy was I wrong!  Once my dad passed away, much was revealed to me.  It was as if I had been asleep in a coma and then I woke up with all of my senses in hyper drive.   And once that happened, I reached a point from which I will never be able to return.  But the good thing is that I’ve actually learned my lesson in not caring about what others say about me.  And to be honest, I didn’t get here on my own.  I have to thank some people who probably didn’t even intend to help me.  They’re my relatives.  And it’s not all of them.  It’s some.  And it’s the few whom I actually thought the most of.  One of those people is someone I took under my wing, brought into my home when things got bad with her mom, and have been there for since she was born.  One of those people gave birth to me.  Some of those people I call “Auntie” and “Cousin”.  And I love these people dearly (even today), so when I first learned of their betrayal, I was beyond hurt.  I couldn’t fathom that this is how they saw me.  And when did they start this?  It would be a while before I realized that they probably always have.

 

Well these people have no problem lying on me, and talking about me as negatively as they can.  And I really can't say enough how hurtful it was.   When it would get back to me about something I supposedly said, it was so far from sounding anything like me that I couldn’t believe anyone would actually believe I said those things!  Yet I still fought like mad to see past it and hope that they would see me and love me and change.  I still chose to cling to my naiveté, hoping that because my intentions were pure, theirs would be as well.  I was a crying fool for a while.  I mean tear stained face, bloody red eyed, snot nosed, crying mess.  I felt betrayed, yet I wanted my betrayers to tell me they didn’t mean it and they loved me so we could go on acting as if nothing happened.  And then it hit me.  I don’t know the exact moment it came, but my epiphany arrived.  I realized that all of these people were CHOOSING to be this way.  They were not being coerced.  They were not being tricked.  They were making conscious choices to treat me as they were and they didn’t care that they were hurting me. What in DEE HAYLE?!  And you mean to tell me I’m sitting here crying over these people?  This had to stop!

 So first I became angry.  And if you’ve learned anything about anger, you know that the main person you are angry with is yourself.  And so I was.  I was mad at myself for caring.  I was mad at myself for being so kind and good-hearted.  I wanted to be someone else. I didn't want to be the nice person with the good heart who only wanted good things for everyone.  But the problem was that I couldn’t give someone so much power that they had the ability to make me become someone I wasn’t.  And then, I went deeper within.  I took a closer look at those people and then my anger dissipated and I was actually able to feel compassion.  If we all take a closer look at the sources of our defamation, we would see that there really is no reason to give a shiny new Farfegnugen what they say.  In my experience, those who were spending a great deal of time talking negatively about me have been very petty and negative people to begin with.  They usually haven’t had much going (so they believe) as they seemed to much rather prefer talking badly about others than actually doing anything for themselves, and they are cowards.  They’d much rather lie and talk about me behind my back and then try to manipulate me into feeling like it’s my fault than to simply let me know that they don’t like me.  Seriously, if you have something to say about a person, you may as well say it to their face, and as Kevin Hart’s Uncle Richard, Jr. would say, “Say it with your chest!” at that.  So when I examined this I recognized that not only were they spreading lies, but once I moved past the titles they hold in my life; none of them are people who I would really like to be around.  So why was I spending so much time lamenting over what they were saying about me?  I had some people advising me to watch what I say and censor myself and I can see where they were coming from.  But I felt like that was still changing myself for them.  I stand by the words I speak because I know that I carefully choose my words.  I don’t just fly off the handle saying things for the sake of hearing myself speak.  My intentions are pure.  I speak truthfully and with Love.  I don’t seek to tear anyone down.  So I no longer mind if another person chooses to purposefully misconstrue what I have said all to try to defame my character.  I recognize that they are only succeeding at defaming their own.  Besides, I realized that they were probably talking about me all along anyway so if I don’t give them anything to say (which I really wasn’t anyway), they’ll just make something up (which they were doing). 

I think I had such difficulty in this area because it seemed for me that my lesson approached too quickly upon the heels of too much change.  See for me, my dad’s death brought forth a hailstorm of change. It wasn’t just that my father died.  When my father died, many of my relationships followed suit (as you see from what I have just shared).  And this was before I had matured to be able to recognize that relationships are simply containers for growth.  So once you outgrow one, the container is removed.  But at that time, my dad’s death was more than enough change for me so I was fighting like mad to hang on to whatever familiar pieces I could.   I finally recognized that it was my resistance to all of the change; as opposed to what was actually being said about me; that had me so upset.  Once I stopped assigning a value to the words and actions of everyone else, stopped looking for those people to be what I hoped, accepted them all for who they are, and simply allowed things to be, I became content.  It doesn’t bother me now when I hear something I supposedly said or I hear what has been said about me.  I actually feel a little flattered.  That means these people are that concerned with the affairs of little ole me.  That means they see something worthwhile in me.  That means I'm shining way too bright for them.  Why else would they try so hard to darken my light?And that’s what we all have to remember.  People will talk about us until the day we die.  And then they’ll talk about us in our death.  While I’m sure most of us would like the words spoken about us to be positive and full of love, the most important words that are spoken are the ones which will come from us.