Cruelty

As promised, Cecilia...it is something interesting to blog about! She and I were having an interesting conversation about Javier.  In case you're behind..I'm friends with Javier's ex wife.  The outside world may have to wrap themselves around that friendship.  But for us, we have both had some cathartic and very therapeutic moments regarding our conversations.  It's amazing how someone can lie to your face and you go about your business with that lie.  I have accepted that most of my relationship (all 6 years of it) might very well be a lie.  At first, the lies ate at me because I couldn't imagine him doing this to me.  He loved me, after all.  I actually think Javier loved me.  But he couldn't love himself, let alone others.  Which brings me to cruelty.  Some people in this world are cruel because they're mad at the world.  Just my take on it.  And then she texted something so profound and really made me think. "Just think...this could have been you.  And so I did.  I imagined having to call the police on my ex husband (who I had stayed with for 17 years out of blind loyalty and thought no one else could possibly want me) I imagined staying with a man that had raped me but I didn't see it as that or dismissed it because I deserved what I got.  I imagined watching my two girls afraid of their own father or if nothing else, didn't want have anything to do with him because he hasn't been a father.  I was her emotional cheerleader last night.  And I felt so good I could do this for my friend.  It's so interesting of a concept that my very existence, my story validates for her not feeling crazy.  That, for many years she felt something wrong with her because of the things he did and said to her.  She is fresh from this hell.  And she is needing to heal.  And I am part of that healing.  Because I am the one person who knows some part of this hell.  You can't ever tell a person who has been abused which abuse is better.  Physical or sexual or emotional.  You can try to silver line it and say...At least physical you can report or show proof.  At least sexual, he didn't hit you.  At least...At least. At least.  I've had physical abuse.  I've had sexual abuse.  I've had emotional abuse.  Let me tell you.  None of them seem like a better than the evils kind of thing.  I actually feel for Javier in some ways for his plight.  For his story of being abandoned by his mother.  She was too young to raise him is the story.  She managed to raise a step son and a daughter.  It's not my business to say. I'm out of that world.  I am proud that I let her know I didn't like her.  It's probably where I got my nickname from her pinggita.  Which means little devil.  He's been tossed around family members.  Everyone has a story, Javi.  Sometimes you have to pick up the pieces and pull up your big girl panties and live.  And function.  What do you think I've been doing all this time with the shit in my head, asshole? I've had beautiful conversations with my friend Rickard.  Granted, Rickard has a special place in my story because he is my ex but we make great friends.  We always have.  Falling in love with Rickard was the best thing to ever happen to me, for my actual physical safety.  I wouldn't have survived.  I wasn't meant to stay with Rickard.  I was meant to learn something.  And learn, I did.  Sometimes falling in love with the wrong person is just about learning a lesson for the bigger picture.  We don't regret each other.  Besides, who has a story of laughing because you are both virgins from the nervousness of it all? My 22 year old self will always love him :) So I don't understand your cruelty, Javier.  I really don't.  I think it's an excuse to lash out at people for your story.  I, myself, have pushed the envelope with certain friends and snarled.  I also trusted those friends because they were looking out for my best interest. They were trying to get me to see that my discredit was wrong.  So wrong, that if they had to call me stupid..or get in my face, or throw pillows at me....then so be it...so I could get into my thick stubborn skull that Javier's words were full of shit.   He had not credentials for manipulating me into think I was worthless.  In fact, the theory now is he did that because I was a strong young woman.  Because that strength frightened him.  He was intimidated by my strength. It's something to think about when we lash out at people.  It's why I find it difficult to.  I used to.  But I have disciplined myself now to think before I react.  Yah, discipline! And Lashing out doesn't solve the problem.  I am not saying that we, as humans do not have moments and don't lash out or yell or raise our voice.  I'm just saying that lashing out doesn't solve anything.