Melancholia

Have you ever had one of those moments were you are just irrationally upset at someone else? I'm having one of those moments today. I'm not going to get into it much, but suffice to say politics came up in Bible study and I'm apparently the only person in the class who feels the way I do.

For the record, I'm too smart to air my views here. They have no place. They'd probably incite a riot of half people who agree with me and half who vehemently don't, and I'm so, so tired of the divisiveness of today's political atmosphere.

Sometimes I, like Rodney King, wonder, "Can't we all just get along?" Or I wonder "Am I such a bad person that you are willing to discount me thanks to a label you can conveniently stick on me?" You know what? It hurts my admittedly too tender feelings.

I've been brash in the past, I'll admit that. I'll even apologize if you'd like. I have opinions and haven't hesitated to share them especially when I feel passionately about something like public education. As I get older, I try to keep those feelings to myself. They're often not welcome. But they're still mine, still a part of me. If I can dearly love people who believe completely different things, then why is it so hard for some people to like me in spite of what I believe?

Okay, I'm going to bring this pity party to a close. I had to get some of these emotions off my chest so I could function today, and I have. Tears streak my face as I write because I'm sometimes such a wussy woman. I, like everyone else, just want to be liked--or at the very least respected. Just know and understand this: who I am and what I believe stems from my daily attempt not to judge others and to love others as I love myself. Hell, sometimes I'm pretty hard on myself, so I actually try to cut some slack for others.

And, you know what? About now I could use a little slack for myself.