sad sorrows.

There's a photograph of a small girl standing with her family as they prepare to embark on a day trip somewhere.  She is standing in front of her father, with his hands resting on her shoulders, with her head down, staring at the ground.  Everyone is smiling, happy, posing for the camera, and at first blush, one might think that the camera just caught the little girl at the wrong moment.  But, look at another nearly-identical photograph and one would quickly realize that the little girl was simply sullen, intentionally refusing to smile for the camera, intentionally aiming to appear unhappy.

She refused to smile for the camera even after her father spent several minutes coaxing her, asking her what was wrong, attempting to cheer her up.  But she was angry about something and though she cannot remember what she was angry about, she distinctly recalls feeling adamant, stubborn, and proud.  She wanted attention.  She wanted her father to spend a few more minutes coaxing her.  She wanted the world to stop moving and to slow down to her pace, only to continue when she was ready to proceed.  If no one wanted to indulge her, she thought, then she wouldn't indulge anyone else (herself included) and she refused to have fun that day, no matter the cost.   

But, nobody cared about her.  Everyone went about their day, had fun, and now, the only memory she has of that day is one that embarrasses her.  For all her effort and pouting - she obtained absolutely no benefit, just another wasted opportunity to have a good time.

* * *

"Maybe you don't know how to appreciate people enough," he said.  He has a way of speaking to me that no one else has managed to achieve.  He speaks in simple terms, but his lines are biting and sharp.  He causes me to listen, to reflect, and most times, I end up pushing aside my ego to admit that his observations are accurate.  Yeah, maybe I don't know how to appreciate people enough.  Yeah, maybe I've misconstrued unconditional love to mean unconditional patience, but they surely are not the same thing.  Yeah, maybe I've abused the kindness I've been shown.  And, yes, it is absolutely time for me to stop being that girl who ruins a perfectly great picture because she doesn't know how to get over herself in order to put others first.


That little girl is all grown up now, but she sadly hasn't matured very much in certain respects.   She's not quite able to agree that just because she truly is the center of someone's world, bestowing that honor upon her does not require them to move, breathe, live by her directions and demands.  She is barely starting to realize that the people who support her, who are there for her, are not the ones she is ever allowed to be mean towards; they only take her cruelty because they care, but with each reoccurrence, the concern depreciates at a more alarming rate.  She's finally truly understanding that famous Emily Bronte quote she has loved for many years - "Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves" - because her pride has caused her to wallow in her own self-created pools of sorrow too many times to count.  And, she is a lot tired of that life.


The question that begs to be asked, and hopefully can be answered, is:  how does she stop?