Choice ... Yep, You've Got One

When I was 17 I had a life changing moment that I'm going to share with you.  M and I were as different as the day is long but we laughed together.  I was the Mormon and she was ... well, not the Mormon.  It did not matter to us as we both held the 'talent' in the theater program and enjoyed being 'in charge' together ~ just as long as we held the power ~ managing to find our own roles in shows without competition or feelings of jealousy {a rarity in teenage girls I believe}.  


Then something happened.  I heard something from someone that had heard from someone that perhaps may have been there.  I was shocked and hurt.  I had not been in a fight with a friend since Natalie Dayton over a Labrum or Branham boy, I was eleven when that drama had occurred, I was out of practice as to how to fight but you would not have known it.  I remember rehearsal that first night after I had heard, I could not even look at her without wanted to break into tears while screaming and pulling her hair out.  I returned home to be greeted by the parentals who asked what was going on, as my face hides nothing, and I responded without words by slamming the bedroom door.  I wrote in my journal, "How awful!  She's a monster.  How could she not think I would care?  How could she do this to me?" {Holy dramatic Batman!}  


The next several weeks I made life miserable for her, classes and rehearsal turned into hell ~ I can be a witch, ask M.  I could not let it go.  And I would add fuel to the fire by discussing the situation with those around me, looking for justification.  "Heartless ... Cruel ... Inconsiderate ..." and other words that hurt humans decide are absolutely justified in these situations were the leading vocab words during this period of time.  This went on for almost six weeks.  This tone towards M that I had adopted seeped into all facets of my life.  I was cruel to my family and friends, people that knew M and people that lived hours away, my attitude was not discriminatory.    


This particular semester I was in in Jen's speech class and her aide.   Roughly six week after I turned on the 'witch within' I gave a speech, I don't remember the topic.  The next period I was alone with Jen in the classroom.  She sat me down and gave me a speech.  "Get over it" was the bottom line.  I cried and told her how I had been wronged as I had yet to share the reason with her prior to this day.  She looked at me and laughed ~ she laughed at me as I sat there with crocodile  tears in my eyes, how could she?!?!  


{This is how the conversation went in my mind, ten years ~ good gracious! ~ later}


"Kasi, I taught you how to bring those tears to life so don't pull them with me.  Now, have you talked with her?"


Heaving sobs, "No, how can I?  Did you not hear me?"  I was flabbergasted. 


"You have been a witch for two months and you haven't even let her tell you what happened?"


"No!"


"Kasi, I've never thought you an incredibly logical person but I never had thought of you as an idiot.  You've got to talk to her and let her explain.  You and M have somehow, against the odds (I believe she was referring to the Mormon vs. Non-Mormon thing) become best friends but you, not M, are throwing that in the wind.  She is not a witch.  Talk to her."


"No!"


"Fine but your speech last hour was horrible because this is eating at you.  It is causing everything else in your life, including your performance in the show, to suck.  So either fix it with M or keep sucking."


Side note: Jen is in a group of less than ten people on the planet that know how to handle me, yes 'handle', when I turn on the ridiculous.  Bless those people, I believe there is a special place in Heaven for all of them {or at the very least some 'upgraded' wings, with extra glitter or something}.


Telling me I suck and being serious about it is going to cause me to stop and check on myself.  The real tears, the sincere ones that come from realizations, then came.  I missed the second half of the day as I realized not only my own ridiculousness but also all that I had screwed up.  Here I was, my senior year, shutting out the person that I had been connected to for the last few years without even giving her a chance to explain.  In addition I had let almost two months of my final year in high school go by in wallowing and misery, not enjoying anything ~ no football games, no post rehearsal outings, no bantering with the friends ~ I had boxed out life because I felt hurt.


Guess what?  That what a choice I made, not something M did.  I chose to be ridiculous.  I chose to hurt others with my apathy towards their situations because I was hurt by someone.  I chose not to confront that person and let it eat at me.  I had my hand on the switch that would change all of it the entire time but decided to not flip it, I picked misery and life sucked because of it.


The end of the story is a happy one.  M and I made up, it took me a few days to swallow my pride {the story was incredible inaccurate ~ shocking!}, took pictures together, sang together and enjoyed life together again.  But that is far from the point I am trying to make.  The point I am trying to make {because often I am not clear and ramble} is this: we get to choose happiness.  We are able to decide what and who gets to make a dent, for better or worse, in our lives.  We can have horrid things thrown at us as we live this life, horribly hard things that cause dark and twisty moments, but we get to decide how we ultimately handle them.  I'm not saying we all need to skip around in happy bubble and pretend life is solely rose-colored, there are a plethora of shades.  I'm saying chose to smile at the grays and browns.  We all have our 'moments' but a year, two years, three years is a really long time to be 'having a moment' ... yep.  You get to decide if life sucks because ... Surprise!! It's your life!!


Oh and ... since I'm up on the soapbox ... give people the benefit of the doubt for crying out loud!!  It saves time, heartache, headaches and frustration!!  No one is perfect!  We've all got stuff.  And sometimes your stuff is bigger than my stuff and I'll try to be there.  But I don't read minds, sorry!  So no, I don't know when your heart is broken if you don't tell me.  I don't know that I've hurt your feelings if you don't tell me.  I don't know that I've made you incredibly frustrated with my cynicism or sarcasm if you don't tell me.  I'm trying to be a good and kind person but I'm not Bri {that's my basically perfect and angelic sister for those of you unfortunate souls who don't know her}.  I'm me, full of imperfections and quirks.  And sometimes, rarely, my stuff is bigger than your stuff {at least in my mind and heart} and I can't be there.  I might not want to tell you that my stuff is bigger because you think your stuff is the biggest there ever can be and you are a tender human and can't handle that.  But take a minute and a deep breath, go do some Bikram, eat a donut, have a milk steamer and then... Offer the benefit of the doubt.  Don't be the me I was in the situation with M, don't hold a grudge and make your life miserable and in turn those lives of all that are around you.  Realize that we are all trying, not trying to make you mad or hurt you but rather trying to be a positive influence and friend in your life.  But perfection is not yet ours ... so, yep.  Make the choice that people in your life have chosen to be there because they love and care for you and are not there to hurt and make you miserable and give them a break.  Give me a break.  I'll give you a break.  Breaks all around!!


Okay ... I'm stepping down now.