Confession of Part-time Hater
January 24, 2013 § 7 Comments
Sometimes I purchase wine because I like the label. Sometimes I chose a book based on the title so when I picked up, “It’s Hard Not to Hate You”, by Valerie Frankel, I didn’t realize what a gem I had on my hands. This is a story of emotional cleansing – something that each one of us can (or should!) relate to. It’s funny, laugh out loud honesty. She covers jealousy, hate, disappointment, marriage, career, parenting and death, and oh, just about everything else in between.
What I appreciated most about her book was the rawness. Life is damn funny when you slow down long enough to put your ego aside. This book is wonderful!!
I confess I have tried to burst a few people into flames with my mind or held a grudge for reasons long forgotten but admit this tom foolery to the world in print?? Wait, RUH ROH? My blog is “print” and although I don’t mention real names to protect the identity of the damned, I do share a great deal about my personal life. RUH ROH is right!
Like the author, I sometimes find myself hating people. People who seem so damn happy— people who don’t have to worry about their kids, their waistline, their jobs or their bank balance. I confess. I am a part-time hater. Is this normal? I don’t care— I’d rather be honest. I often ask, no scream at the Universe asking WHY ME? Can’t I catch a break?
There is no thundering response back from the heavens. I know what you are thinking. “Worrying does you no good!” Please wipe away your consoling smirk and understand that I don’t chose to worry. Worry choses me.
What I am really thankful for is that I have a few guardian angels that seem to know just when to contact me—they psychically know when I have donned my negativity cloak. Without judgment, they help me shuffle back to a place of gratitude. I can cry, complain, dream, hope …. My guardian angels are there for me. I am forever grateful for your calls, texts and emails that lift me up and remind me of my strength.
My visits to the “hater zone” are short and less frequent these days but when I do go there, I don’t judge myself for feeling less than. These are thoughts and my thoughts don’t define me. I also keep these thoughts locked inside—I do not act on them. I let my thoughts remind me that I too am human and that every storm, no matter how intense, does not last forever.
From the heart,