Pity Blech

The time has come to make even more changes in my personal life. In a recent post on a blog I read regularly, the writer commented on holding onto relationships long past their expiration dates. I, too, am guilty of that. No matter how many times you shake the carton, the milk stays sour. I tend to put way too much significance on even the most casual relationship, as if the person standing before me is the last person on the face of the earth. With my newfound selectivity, however, I'm able to release relationships even before they begin.

I no longer feel the need to latch on to someone just because they tell me they're worthy of my time. I make that decision, and I don't always agree with the prevailing opinion.

A typical example:

There's a woman at work who prides herself on being a "good judge of character." I'm a sucker for these self-proclaimed judges. If someone tells me something with authority, I eat it up! In this case, she comes just short of claiming psychic ability. She's very magnetic, almost always commanding attention when she walks into a room. Unofficially, if you don't have her seal of approval, you're dead meat in the office.

I've included her in a couple of my interview teams. Yet, when it comes to recruiting for her department, she hires people that "feel right." Then she comes to me and tells me that she's sorry she's upset my "process." The quotes hang in the air every time she says it. In the past I would have busted my butt trying to get her approval. In fact, I've had to stop myself trying to get it. Instead of trying to redefine myself in her world, I'm interpretting her into mine, and I don't like the translation. The stench of condescension that rolls off her is stifling. Further, she had the audacity to invite me to her home for Easter dinner -- so I wouldn't be alone on the holiday.

Of course, I smiled and told her how sweet she was to think of me -- both times she extended the invitation. I've done that before. But this time I honestly don't feel like I'm missing a thing. I cooked a turkey at home, and am quite happy with it. I'm leaving for church in a few minutes, and I'll spend the afternoon rehearsing for the upcoming concert. Exactly how I want to spend my holiday.

Because I'm single, I frequently get offers to spend holidays with people who "don't want me to be alone on the holiday." These invitations make me insane. Invite me because you want to spend time with me, not because you're doing your Christian duty by taking in those less fortunate. I've spent years swallowing the message that I'm lucky that certain people have included me in their lives. I'm so gullable, I believe almost anything anyone tells me. It rarely occurs to me that someone would have an agenda that would include using me to make themselves feel important. So if you tell me I'm lucky to know you, then I probably am. But recently I've come to consider the reverse. You are lucky to know me.

And in my considered opinion, more often than not you are.

The truth is, I like being alone on the holidays. I get to do exactly what I want, however I want to do it. Sure, I'd enjoy being with friends, but only with friends who are choosing to spend time with me because they're spending time with me, not out of a sense of pity.

And it's this sense of pity that I've come to dispise. It says I'm less than. There is nothing about me that merits pity, so keep it to yourself.