I'm participating in -R-'s Blog Share today. The post below was written by an anonymous blogger and does not have one single mention of boobs or yeast infections thereof.
For a full list of the blogs participating in the Blog Share, check out -R-'s list.
The One Side:
We used to be friends. We used to talk about everything, made plans to explore our city, went out to dinner, spent weekends and empty weeknights together. We chatted through the day, had similar taste in style and books and travel dreams. Not too long ago, we were practically inseparable. Then there was this really unforgivable thing, things were said that hurt my feelings and I felt they were completely on purpose. I cancelled plans because I didn't want to be hurt again and at the back of my mind I knew that hanging out again would definitely result in my being hurt. I kept myself busy with a couple of big projects, and any time I got stuck in that awkward "what happened to us!?" conversation I blamed my business for my distance. When I starting receiving emails asking the same thing, I continued to blame my schedule and lack of time or energy. I don't know how long it will take before the hint is FINALLY taken! I don't want a friendship. I don't want to talk about it. I just want you to go away!
Only, you don't go away. I still see you all the time and now it is starting to really bother me. I think if I just ignore you it will be better.
After months of clipped conversations, a lack of even elementary friendliness, and my leaving you off invitation lists you still don't seem to get it. You are just so annoyingly persistent in this whole "why can't we be friends" thing. Get it through your head: I. Don't. Want. To. Be. Friends. Ugh. Seriously.
And Then The Other Side:
We used to be friends. We used to talk about everything, made plans to explore our city, went out to dinner, spent weekends and empty weeknights together. We chatted through the day, had similar taste in style and books and travel dreams. Not too long ago, we were practically inseparable. Then I must have done or said something that left feelings terribly hurt and irreparably bruised, and suddenly all that changed. Instead of a friendly attitude, I was met with dismissal and indifference. Instead of making plans I was left out and ignored. I initiated several conversations and sent several emails asking if there was something I had done to cause the change, to see if there was any way I could apologize and make amends. This relationship was a very important one and I hoped that something as silly as an off-handed comment or cranky week was not going to reduce it to nothing. While I was reassured that it was "nothing" and "it's not you, it's me", months went by and things only got worse, more distant, more gossiping behind my back, blatant ignoring and even a bit of what I felt to be pointed, public criticism.
At first I was heartbroken, then I was upset, now I am indifferent. Apparently, it takes me about 10 months to get over a relationship that did not have any closure for me.
The One Side:
In most blog circles where I hang out--the type of circles that spill over into Real Life and now my blogger friends are some of my best friends and cohorts--I am known for This One Thing. I do The Thing all the time, it's talked about, laughed about, photographed, shared, etc. I could easily introduce myself as "Hi, I'm Blogger, I do The Thing." A few weeks ago another blogger shared a post that mocked The Thing. I was pretty offended, I thought she was being passive-aggressive and deliberately sharing this post to hurt my feelings. But, instead of letting it fester, I emailed her and asked her what had possessed her to share this particular post and how I felt it was a direct attack.
Her response surprised me a little, apparently I had thought that everyone knew about me and The Thing. Turns out, she had no idea. She apologized profusely, told me she had no intention of hurting my feelings and really had never connected me or my use of The Thing to this shared post that openly and blatantly mocked it.
And Then The Other Side:
A few weeks ago a snarky and sarcastic friend of mine posted about how much he hated The Thing. He went to great length to detail the history of The Thing, which he made up in hilarious fashion. I couldn't stop laughing. I immediately shared the post (before Google Reader became Google Plus and sharing things became a hassle) and went on with my day. Later that evening I received an email from one of the most lovely bloggers I know, she was hurt and sounded offended that I had so passive-aggressively attacked her and her ubiquitous use of The Thing. I was shocked. I had never associated her with The Thing. I stay out of most of the big blogger circles, I don't go to conferences or participate in monthly blogosphere challenges and projects, I just read blogs and try to improve my own storytelling when I write. I was shocked that my sharing of what I thought was a harmless--if a bit snarky--post would incite a few giggles and nothing more. If I had ever associated this blogger with The Thing that was being mocked I would never ever have shared it. I immediately responded with an apology, I assured this blogger that I had no intention of mocking her, that I, in fact, had no idea she and The Thing were linked in bloggerdom. I appreciated her telling me where I had tromped on her toes and giving me the chance to apologize for it and make it right.
Now, I am one half of both of those stories, and not necessarily always the better half. In writing out these two, different stories I have realized some things about myself and will be making steps to correct any bad behavior on my part. I'm not talking about "bad behavior" like throwing spit wads on the ceiling or spreading rumors or never tipping my waitress. I'm talking about perpetrating the exact passive-aggressive behavior that drives me batty. If I feel like I can complain about passive-aggressive behavior and festering of emotions, then I need to make damn sure that I am not also acting passive-aggressively on festering emotions. Touche, self, touche.