• Read The Reason You Shouldn’t Care What Others Think


    The Reason You Shouldn’t Care What Others Think

    I debated it back and forth in my mind before I sent the text. “Should I or shouldn’t I?” “What if she didn’t mean it?” “Then it’s going to be awkward from this point forward.” “People say things all the time about getting together but they never do.” I quickly wrote the text and hit send before I could give it another thought. Hey Kristin, it’s Shelley from boot camp.  Would you and Vince be up for meeting for drinks/dinner the weekend of the 21st? No response that evening, which didn’t surprise me.  I know she works late at an urgent care clinic. No response the next day either, and I must admit at this point I started to feel a bit foolish. Or the day after that. And just in case you’re wondering, she never did respond. And yes it was terribly awkward, especially the day I saw her again at boot camp. I saw her out of the corner of my eye approaching, looked up and flashed a nervous smile in her direction and then felt that sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.  You know the one.  It’s the feeling that makes you want to run and hide when you realize you’re the last classmate standing and neither side has picked you for their team in gym class.  (I was the smart one, not the sporty one.) I tried not to make eye contact and busied myself with my weights.  She dropped her mat down next to mine and the workout began.  A few minutes in she leaned over and said, “I’m so sorry I haven’t responded to your text, things have been really crazy busy the last few days.” Her profuse apologies made me feel worse, the sinking feeling was back, and I did my best to reassure her while doing jumping jacks that it was no problem at all.  “It will work out whenever the time is right,” I heard myself saying. The next time I saw her at boot camp it was the same story.  And the same the time after that.  She kept apologizing.  And I kept reassuring her that it was no big deal, I wasn’t offended, I understand how life goes. After the 3rd or 4th crazy busy the shame and embarrassment turned to anger. Wtf!  Who the hell does this woman think she is! Does she think I’m just sitting around waiting for the opportunity when she and her husband grace us with their presence at dinner? What a bitch. And then the righteous indignation set in. Why me?  Here I am trying to do something nice like I always do and no one appreciates it. Why am I the one who always has to coordinate everything?  Why am I the one who always has to be the heavy? Why am I the one who always puts myself out there and gets humiliated?  If she ever does come up with a date for dinner, I’ll tell her we’re busy.  […]

    February 12, 2018


    4.6 min read