The Squooshy

I have an overactive sense of empathy…generally.  It can be debilitating.  I hate listening to and reading the news because every awful story becomes my story.  Every heartache is my heartache.  Every hurting child is my hurting child.   And truly deplorable acts…they just get written on my heart and stay with me like a sickness.   It gets in the way at work; it makes me indecisive as I, at times, over-value others’ opinions.  I want everyone to win.  And, sometimes I can’t make a tough decision even when it’s the best one if I know it will negatively impact others (or their opinion of me).

But it is something that makes me uniquely me–it is, I am assured, how God intended me to be.  It’s the essence de Rhonda…my “squooshy”.  My OEG (overactive empathy gland) makes me care deeply about my impact on others.  It makes me a good citizen.  I tend to be considerate–sometimes to a fault–thinking about what others need.  When I hear a debated topic, I am interested in how the opposing point of view came to be.  I dislike when a dissenting opinion is dismissed–I want to understand why the other person thinks differently, even when I disagree.  People truly fascinate me–and that comes through in many of my relationships.  The extra room in my heart for others is something that, I think, comes through in my relationships……..most of the time.  At least sometimes.  Once in a while?

Not all the time though; sometimes I’m a closed-minded troll.  Sometimes all I can see is me and all I can think about is the righteousness in my own opinion.

My teenager is amazing.  He has “the squishy” too.  But sometimes he disappoints me…and when he does, I am most certainly not big-in-heart and open-in-mind.  I’m pissed off mama bear (all 3: potential tribal name choices for me).  I’m angry.  I can’t believe he did what he did or said what he said.  And my husband?  Also kind of amazing in his own right; he demonstrates unconditional love for his wife unlike any man I’ve ever met.   Annnnnnnnd….also make Hulk angry.  Make Hulk smash.  When I am angry, I feel…..superior.  And smug.  Like the person I am upset with is unenlightened and not smart enough to understand what I understand.  Husband likes to use the word ‘elitist’ in describing mid-argument-Rhonda.  I do come around eventually, but in the heat of the argument…….well, he isn’t wrong.

So.  How can I be OEG-me and elitist, blind-to-your-perspective-me?  What triggers the empathy and what obscures it?

It’s personal offense; personal investment.  It’s thinking of myself before others.

When my teenager screws up, he needs to know he screwed up.  But he also needs to know that it’s normal to do so.  And that there may be consequences (either natural or contrived-by-mama-bear)  but that I still love him and believe in him.  Sometimes, I fail him there.  I get heavy on the consequences and the yelling and flailing of the arms and light on the love and belief…because I get lost in thinking about me. How unfair is it to me that I have to keep parenting the same issue?  I have too much demanded of me as it is.  I don’t know how to do this, it isn’t fair.  And so it goes…the spiral of self-centered complaints.

I voted today (cuz #SusanBAnthony btchz!) and I voted for Hillary.  I will disappoint some friends by saying I did not vote for her because I’m a huge fan.  I think she’s highly qualified and would do well in keeping the country safe.  And I think the Anti-Hillary movement is more rhetoric than fact (no comments needed supporting either side).  I respect her.  But I voted for her, mostly, because Donald Trump offends me at a core and visceral level.  I am embarrassed by what he says on the world stage.  He’s a bully.  He targets the disenfranchised.  My heart hurts when he stokes that base and awful fear in our people about brown people (Mexicans…Muslims).  He’s reckless and irresponsible.  And the way he talked about women, on the campaign trail alone this year (not just 10 years ago), made me feel sick to my stomach.  And angry.  And personally attacked. When I learned today that a handful of close friends that I feel a particularly high level of respect for told me they voted for him, I felt crushed.  I felt a little devastated.  I felt personally offended. And, I did not take a breath to hear the other perspective.  OEG did not activate, because, frankly I didn’t care.  In those moments, all I could see was me and all I could inventory were the wounds which I perceived to be inflicted on me by their actions. But I was wrong.  I’m still offended, but I was wrong to not stop and listen.  To not try to understand how people with qualities I esteemed enough to give them my respect could make the decisions they made, (whether I continue to find them questionable or not).

Tomorrow, we will go to work and this deplorable, awful, wretched, vomit-inducing election year will be behind us.  Half of us will be pleased, half will feel crest-fallen.  Some even truly fearful of the future.  But all of us are still an ‘us’.  We are not 2 sets of ‘them’–don’t be fooled. And we owe each other the dignity of stopping and listening and attempting a little empathy.