When I was a child, I was fortunate enough to be able to trust almost everyone I knew. I did not hide secrets from my parents. I, readily, owned up to anything I did wrong, whether it be a mistake or from mischief. Sure, I had to face the consequences for whatever I do or did not do but nothing was ever that harsh.
Then, one day, at the start of my teenage years, I discovered my father’s secret. I was horrified and dismayed by my findings. Here I thought I had as close to the perfect family that anyone could have. To find out my father had a flaw that could be humiliating so that it had to be concealed was heartbreaking to a girl who was just twelve years old.
[I will not reveal what this secret was here in cyberspace. I will tell you that it is still something that is frowned on. Changes in society’s standards have not touched this flaw as of yet.]
When I was finally on my own as an adult, I suppressed this memory, hoping I could let it go out into the cosmos never to be seen, heard, or thought of again. Of course, it did not stay hidden. Every time I see someone with this same vice, I recoil in disgruntlement and disrespect.
Losing the ability to trust means everything about life feels unsafe. —Cat, My Travels with Depression
I cannot say I am without trust in my life. However, with each confidence I feel for someone, there is also a part of that person I doubt. Do other people have this clashing going on within themselves? My suspicion is I am not the only one, not by a long shot.
I will not chalk up these uncertainties of others to how I was raised as a whole despite the incisiveness of how that one incident changed my perception of life. I was taught to take life as it is. Because of this guidance, I have never expected anything on the one account that I deserve it. Disappointment is in everyone’s life at various times. How one behaves when it shows up reveals the type of person he or she is.
When I experience the presence of someone with my father’s secret flaw though, that first feeling of shock floods over me all over again.
I am sure someone would love to tell me to get some counseling. However, that would not guarantee I would be any happier than what I usually am. Many people do not like the vice my father had so I doubt, seriously, I am going to find myself in a position where I am non-functioning without therapy of some sort. I know I am not alone.
What I prefer to do is focus on keeping things in perspective. I detest this failing in people so I try my best to avoid those who have it. When I cannot dodge it, I keep my distance from that person hoping he or she will not approach me. If that does not work, I try to stay polite but keep the conversation short.
I am not made to get along with every person. There are times when I have reprimanded myself for not being more harmonious but I must face the facts of my existence. I just do not like everything and that includes people. My life experiences have shaped me into who I am thus far. I cannot undo any of that.
And, after all, I know I have some vices people cannot tolerate as well.
Are there flaws in people that send your flying up the wall?