Doing The Thing with Judgment
Hello, November 14, 2010
I absolutely love (what I call) moments of truth, and this is one of them.
My college Interpersonal Communications class was ending for the day, but two of us were still engaged in conversation. The young man sitting across from me had always looked at me with complete disgust. That day's exercise must have been something like 'brutal honesty'. In words dripping with disdain and judgment, my counterpart said to me, "I don't know how you make it to school each day wearing your rose colored glasses!"
He hated me for who or what his judgment thought I was. Through his negative lenses, he saw my optimism as fluff, a shallow shell of a girl, oblivious to the world around her, living a candy coated life. He believed what he thought to be true. Little did he know that reality was the opposite of what his intellect assumed.
He hammered me with his loathing, criticism and judgment. I took it. I didn't feel deep down an attack on my character because I knew it wasn't true. When he was finished, it was my turn to be brutally honest. I don't know if I mentioned my dysfunctional childhood, but I told him this:
I might have chosen to delay going to college, except it was one of my fathers last requests to me before committing suicide, and a provision of the inheritance, that I go.
Through this moment of truth, my partner shifted. He came to see reality. Neither of us lived carefree lives, but while he was living and sharing his sour lemons, I was making and sharing my lemonade.
In the end with he and I, we became the oddest of best new friends in that period of time. I haven't seen him since, but I may still have the poem he wrote full of love, honor and high regard for the real me.
Do The Thing with Love,
Dana
I absolutely love (what I call) moments of truth, and this is one of them.
My college Interpersonal Communications class was ending for the day, but two of us were still engaged in conversation. The young man sitting across from me had always looked at me with complete disgust. That day's exercise must have been something like 'brutal honesty'. In words dripping with disdain and judgment, my counterpart said to me, "I don't know how you make it to school each day wearing your rose colored glasses!"
He hated me for who or what his judgment thought I was. Through his negative lenses, he saw my optimism as fluff, a shallow shell of a girl, oblivious to the world around her, living a candy coated life. He believed what he thought to be true. Little did he know that reality was the opposite of what his intellect assumed.
He hammered me with his loathing, criticism and judgment. I took it. I didn't feel deep down an attack on my character because I knew it wasn't true. When he was finished, it was my turn to be brutally honest. I don't know if I mentioned my dysfunctional childhood, but I told him this:
I might have chosen to delay going to college, except it was one of my fathers last requests to me before committing suicide, and a provision of the inheritance, that I go.
Through this moment of truth, my partner shifted. He came to see reality. Neither of us lived carefree lives, but while he was living and sharing his sour lemons, I was making and sharing my lemonade.
In the end with he and I, we became the oddest of best new friends in that period of time. I haven't seen him since, but I may still have the poem he wrote full of love, honor and high regard for the real me.
Do The Thing with Love,
Dana
Posted by Dana Quade at 11/14/2010 10:10 AM 
Categories: Moments of Truth
Tags: Honesty Clarity Real Awakening expansion lifechanging Suicide
Categories: Moments of Truth
Tags: Honesty Clarity Real Awakening expansion lifechanging Suicide
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