We all meet someone bitchy at least once in our life. Right? I mean, I hope there aren’t just a few of us who do. And I hope there aren’t just some of us who have to struggle against judgmental thoughts toward such a person. And in case you haven’t met someone like that, maybe you are already about to meet one, that is why God allowed you to read this blog post. (Or maybe you are that someone to some people’s life. Okay, there you go, I’m really just joking in this last sentence, okay? Haha. Don’t go sensitive on me now.)
Alright… now moving on with my story.
I met someone. And I’m gonna change some facts a bit so that the person won’t have a clue that I’m talking about him, just in case by some odd stroke of fate he ends up landing on this page.
So I met someone who’s really nice. And he’s really soft spoken and friendly towards people but he has this hobby and it’s the kind that really defiles relationships in a community. My friend likes to sour grape aaaaaaaall the time. It’s as if everything that happens to his life is a reason to feel regretful, unlucky, unappreciated, unhappy. I mean, even good things can turn into reasons to feel bad. And what’s so hard to understand is that he kept on complaining about the consequences of a choice that he himself made and he himself has a choice to leave that place that is causing him to complain.
At first, I thought that was the only problem he had. But I got a bit wary when I slowly realized that he had a tendency to say things that could ruin relationships. One time, he said that our friend started to have negative feelings towards me. I tried to mend the situation by stepping out to prove that I am the opposite of what the situation made me seem like. It seemed to have worked. But then as I got to know that common friend better, I started to doubt what our sour graping friend spoke about him. It did not seem to be consistent with that person’s personality and character. I’m worried that if I listen to this friend of mine, he might ruin my relationships with other friends and that he might say negative things about me too. 😦
As I learned more about this friend of mine, I also found out that he is very insecure and that no matter how lovingly you treat him, he always has this tendency to interpret your words or actions (even if spoken with so much love, or spoken matter of factly), as rejection. He is wearing rejection-colored glasses. And love can’t seem to get through his shell that filters things through lenses that say, “I am rejected and unlucky, forever and ever. Amen!”
I started to feel sad for him.
Then one day, I remembered how I used to wear something similar as a child. 🙂
When I was in pre-school, I had so much self-rejection in me and so much fear of rejection that when kids tried to make friends with me, I would be so afraid to respond in friendliness. I would shy away because I felt inferior or ashamed. One time, the other nursery kids were playing “langit-lupa” or touch base. They asked me to join. Timidly, I risked joining, also being hungry for a social life. The last one to be “out” will be the “it.” Fortunately, I was the first one to be “out.” And they told me to step back while they continue the process of elimination until one ‘it’ is left.
When that finger pointed towards me, I automatically felt intimidated and I thought that it meant that I’m rejected (again). Even though it was really supposed to be good news ‘coz I get to be the first one to run as far as I can, away from the possible ‘it.’ When they told me to stand aside and go far away from them (so that I can run far from the ‘it’ once the elimination is done), I felt that I was being shooo-d away. Again, rejected.
I can still clearly remember that day. We were in a circle and I stepped backward bit by bit. And when I was already a few feet away, I shouted, “I quit. I’m not joining the game anymore.”
They were, of course disappointed and confused, and they asked why. I could only mumble something like “I don’t want to anymore.” But truth is, I thought I was the “it.” I was the odd one out again. I was unaccepted again. I was alone again. I’d rather step out and run away, by my own choice, rather than having to feel that people had to make that choice for me. That choice that I will not be accepted in the group.
It was sometime later (I don’t know how long), when I got to play that game for real, that I realized that I had not been rejected at all. I was in fact lucky to have been the first one out years ago! And eventually, that discovery made me think, “What is wrong with me? How come I thought that way?”
Twenty -six or -seven years later, I was surprised by the revelation. I had often thought that some people are way weird and dysfunctional, interpreting words and situations way hilariously and imaginatively, with so much bias, based on the tint of the glasses they are wearing. Rejection-colored, fear-colored, shame-colored glasses, and so on… But I used to wear such lenses too. God told me, “You were wearing those lenses too, and you must have looked rather weird to them, don’t you think?” I could only say, “I’ll bet I did! But God, you took away those lenses of shame and rejection.”
God was able to get past the rejection. When my crazy INTERPRETATIONS made it impossible for man to change me, God’s love made a way. I am a product of a miracle. I often would forget this truth. But I am. It used to be so impossible for me to change. But nothing is impossible with God.
As I look at my friend now, I could see myself in him. He is, by the way, a Christian. God, shatter his lenses with your love.