Dear Me – specifically the 8th grade part of you that is worried that maybe no one likes you or that there’s a party being planned next weekend that everyone knows about but you, the part that even at 45 seems to get a bit petulant at unexpected times and then totally disappears at other moments that seem tailor made for pouting – I have some recent events for you to bear in mind.
There was that yoga class you were subbing for a friend. It was full of people – a big Sunday morning class, much larger than your usual – and all of a sudden an old friend walked in. You were about to greet her but were busy signing in a new student. When you next looked up, she was walking out the door. Did she leave because you were the sub? For days, you assumed this was the case and you rationalized it – haven’t you done the same thing at some point in 20 years of yoga, hit the pavement when the teacher you were counting on wasn’t there? it’s really unyogic but it happens. And you tried, too, to brush it off or not care.
Then you ran into her on the street. Big hug. Big smile. “I was so bummed I didn’t get to take your class last weekend! I was so happy to see you there, but the friend I came with was sick and she finally realized she just wasn’t up to it.”
Oh. Gosh. Really? Relief. Feelings of ridiculousness.
Note to self: Believe.
Then the other night your ex asked when you’re getting back from your trip so that he can have a night out with “the boys,” a night being hosted by someone you consider your friend more than his. And there it was – that Tobasco sting of jealousy. You’d spent a lot of time with this guy and his wife after the divorce; their home had been a safe haven for you and your kids. And though you and your ex are amicable and know loads of people in common, this still rubs you wrong. Why?
That very afternoon, as though on cue, the old friend writes to say he’s been in a crunch at work for months and is finally coming out of it. He wants to see you and the kids. He knows you’ve needed some technical help with a project and he’s still happy to give you some time.
You practically thump yourself on the forehead feeling foolish.
Note to self: Have faith.
You emailed an old friend and fellow yogi who seemed to be in the midst of a crisis. You reached out. You got back silence. You read this several different ways, none of which involved the simple explanation of moving slowly. Which is what she said when she wrote back, and then a bunch of emails ensued between the two of you – warm, friendly, helpful.
You dork! You over zealous, needy, little dork!
Note to self: Sweetie, be kinder to yourself. You never know when you’ll surprise yourself.