It is always happening whenever I talk to my mother.
She’ll say something petty and ungrateful. Someone will have done something nice for her. Something that was clearly well intended. Came from a good place. But because the gesture wasn’t perfect, wasn’t what she would have envisioned in the best of all possible worlds, » Read more
I have a confession to make: I’m always the idiot at the restaurant who ordered the spicy food and drank all my water before my meal arrived.
It’s me. I’m the person sitting there trying her best to eat her meal without anything to drink, sweat pouring down her face. Hoping that the server will swing by soon with something to drink and save me from myself. » Read more
Folks who are in emotional crumple zones are the ones others worry the least about upsetting or hurting. Not because they don’t have feelings. And not because they don’t get hurt easily.
Indeed, many folks in the crumple zone are actually quite sensitive — to their own emotions and to the ones of those around them. » Read more
Born with a Target on My Back
I wasn’t allowed to be particular.
Growing up, only two people in my family were allowed to be particular. One was my sister Alice. Her default state was disgust. Dismay.
Alice was nasty. Particular. And catered to. She was consulted first on where she wanted to go whenever the family went out to eat. » Read more