Choices.

There are those choices that you make. That you think are good for you. You're proud of them. They're small. They're harmless. Until you look back a year later and realize if you would have changed your mind on that ONE little detail, how much heartache you would be saving yourself. How much pain you would never feel. No one person should ever make you feel this way. I feel bad for all the women I judged for being "crazy." It's not their fault. It's the men who make them crazy, then play victim. Scenario: Doing your best to stay away from someone for a year and a half just for you to eventually give in, fall, then get your heartbroken. I never thought I'd meet a man who would fill my head with so many lies, try to get the best of me, tell me how closed off I am, and how he would fly to come see me when we got our new careers. I never thought anyone could be so cruel until it actually happened. Now I'm crazy. Crazy. I'm one of those crazy women that I used to make fun of. You know, I thought he was adorable when I first met him. I have flashbacks of all these moments when I thought he was the sweetest man I've ever met. The moment I first got butterflies in my stomach is permanently embedded in my memory. It was as if he were the most caring, gentle, reserved man. Now looking back, I realize that it was a cover. He was fully capable of breaking someone. I've never been so badly hurt. I remember the night he suddenly rejected me after we made dinner together as if it were a scene tattooed on my hand. I had just met his friends the weekend before. And a few days before that he made me cry as we laid there together on the couch and he told me how I'm the first girl in 10 years in which he has had absolutely no idea how she feels about him. How he didn't want to hurt me.

I can't even be with people now without closing my eyes and seeing him. He has ruined me. That's the problem, though. I remember he used to make me feel insecure when he would talk about how young I am compared to him. Funny thing is, that I've dated men older than him and they never made me feel as juvenile as he did. I hope he gets what he's looking for. At least I'll know better next time. Any woman reading this. Fend for yourself. Don't believe sweet whispers in your ear. Never let your guard down, at least not completely.

And there it is.

All it takes is one moment to realize that one aspect of your life has controlled all others.

Realization

These past few months have been one loopy rollercoaster. Waiting, rejection, anticipation. Never the greatest emotions to have at anytime let alone at the same time. But I must admit, I have learned alot about myself. What I'm able to take and overcome...well, emotionally, that is. It's times where you feel there is no hope and then from the darkness find a light, that it's hard to believe there isn't a greater power out there. We as humans suffer through so much emtotional turmoil. The pain of loss or rejection lasts longer than most minor injuries and sometimes hurts more than any major ones. It's true what they say, though. Nothing can really help you heal more than time....except maybe self-awareness. For the longest time I assumed something was wrong with me. There isn't anything wrong with me. There are just wrong people to have in my life. I've acted like a crazy person this past month. But as much as it might hurt, if someone can't handle me when I'm at one of my lowest moments, well, then they don't deserve to have me by their side when they're at theirs.

The buck stops here...

I'm a staff member for this amazing organization that focuses on the personal and leadership development of middle and high school students. Something we cover at the annual summer workshops for the senior high students is the story of Harry S. Truman and "the buck stops here." Truman had this phrase on a plaque displayed on his desk during his presidency. The phrase derives from "passing the buck," or passing the blame or responsibility unto someone else. For Truman, the passing of the buck stopped at his desk. Passing the responsibility ended with him.

Accountability has been something I hold close to the core. As a leader in a few collegiate organizations, I made it a point to keep others and myself accountable for a variety of intentional or accidental missteps. But after much distress and the loss of a few pounds, acting as the "almighty champion of maintaining accountability" became exhausting. I became a self-inflicting "Truman." I would just accept responsibility for everything. Things that weren't even my fault. It was easier that way. Less arguing, less stress, less acne. That mindset consumed me. It became an insecurity. I adopted responsibility for the things I shouldn't and accepted wrongs that weren't my own. It wasn't until now, that I'm take a step back and analyze a struggling relationship I have, that I realize that I had let those newly acquired insecurities gnaw at the open, but confident composure I used to be so proud of.

I'm not saying that you shouldn't admit your wrongs. It is imperative to be aware of your mistakes so that you may grow from them. As a co-worker recently said, "insanity is making the same mistake twice." With that being said,  it is also a mistake to accept faults that aren't your own. It doesn't help you or the true source of error.

It's part of my nature to try and fix certain things, but maybe I can still do that without assuming I'm the one who broke them.

The Intrigue of Honesty

The other day I drove out to Crocker Park to walk around Barnes & Noble. I haven't had the chance to do that in a while. I used to check out bookstores when I needed time to relax. I tend to read cosmo or Stratfor articles, but I was looking for an alternative reality to escape. I got a suggestion from a co-worker to look at Wally Lamb books. So I did and figured why not. I grabbed the book "I Know This Much Is True," bought myself a warm apple cider from the Starbucks cafe inside the store, sat down and started reading. After about an hour and a half I realized I was hungry and walked up to browse the pastries, biscottis, cakes, etc. I'm a cheapskate, though, so when they told me that they don't accept giftcards at this particular starbucks because it was run by Barnes & Noble, I wasn't too happy. Especially when I was paying $3.15 for a "grande" apple cider. As I looked at the price cards before glancing on their corresponding pie or donut, I cringed. I walked from the far end of the pastry fridge toward the cash register. Three baristas were standing close together waiting for me to make a decision. After a few moments, the male barista said, "try the macaroons in the glass jar...they're really good!" I let out a soft laugh and said, "I'm kind of a cheapskate, so paying $1.25 for something that small is not something I am willing to do." They didn't look surprised, just laughed. But a young, dark curly haired barista said in a monotonous tone, "Your honesty intrigues me."

After she said that, I went back to my seat and sat down. I wrote down the words she said so that I could remember them. I went back to reading my book. On the way home I thought about those words. "Your honesty intrigues me." Honesty shouldn't be intriguing, should it? A definition I found online says that "to intrigue" means to "arouse the curiousity or interest of by unusual, new, or otherwise fascinating or compelling qualities; appeal strongly to; captivate." Granted I was just giving my honest  reason for not making a second purchase, but if anything the unnecessary explanation should be intriguing...not my honesty. But then, again, maybe the reality of it is...that the art of being honest is intriguing. Perhaps we're not used to it. We're certainly not used to it when it comes to political candidates right before an election or when our sister "borrows" the blouse we just bought yesterday. Honesty in those situations would  be fascinating, compelling, and captivating. But everyday communication with strangers, friends, family, or lovers shouldn't be intriguing. It should be expected.

I have a very strong feeling that I was lied to a few days ago by someone I care about, I told him that if he says so, I will believe him. Not question it. Am I a fool? Should I have confronted him? Disputed his word? Or do I just expect honesty...so I choose to accept his word.

This isn't to say that I am perfect. I am also guilty of being dishonest. Not often, though. Guilt eats away at me. Honesty, for me, goes hand in hand with keeping your word. I took a spirituality class Spring semester of 2011, and I remember telling my professor that I wanted to take him up on his offer to sit down and discuss my final exam paper. I know this sound ridiculous, but I never ended up scheduling a time to sit down with him. That periodically would bother me. Recently, I got tired of it coming up in my thoughts so I emailed him and asked if he would still be willing to sit down with me and talk about the paper. Being the awesome guy he is, he agreed and I re-sent him my paper for a second review. However, I do realize that all promises or declarations aren't as easy to keep as a simple paper review. But does that mean you still can't be honest? Those who are invested in your word deserve an honest explanation if your word can no longer be kept...regardless of whether or not it will hurt you, them, or both. But this isn't about promises or declarations, it's about the element of honesty that comes with those promises and declarations. It's about everyday honesty. The honesty you show strangers, friends, family, and lovers. It shouldn't be intriguing. It should be expected.


**Disclaimer: Lack of honesty with respect to the best interest of the United States and national security is an exception to this particular post.**