Have you ever opened up a journal or diary from when you were an adolescent and just cringed? You probably wrote about how the world was ending because your crush didn't smile at you one day, or how your parents were "the worst," or maybe how you were so in love with your boyfriend/girlfriend and you were certain it would never end. . .
And then you put it away and think "Thank God I've grown up!" Those written mementos, melodramatic as they may be, are valuable reminders of how things change with time, perspective, and maturity. When we write them we have no concept of how to contextualize the problems into a larger picture, into a timeline of personal development that will inevitably reshape and resize the roles of those problems in our lives. And although reading them can be painful ("OMG I can't believe I thought that!"), they are a great means of measurement for how far we've come in life. Well, apparently our capacity for melodrama doesn't always mellow with age.
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It was nearly midnight and I was on the couch. J, meanwhile, was fast asleep in bed. It was nothing he'd asked of me, but I felt I did not deserve to share that space with him after what I'd said. It hadn't been intentional, I told myself, and I felt sorry the moment I said it, but there was no denying the harm it had caused. My negative feelings, warranted as they might have been, were no reason for taking them out on him. Since opening that letter on Match Day 2013, there was a word that occasionally popped into my mind unbidden, unwanted, but undeniable. The word brought with it a feeling that made me afraid of who I was and where our life would take us, and I pushed against it every time it surfaced. I refused to voice it to anyone for fear of giving it life, convinced it would tear us apart if it were allowed to exist.
Resentment. |
AuthorNashira is a music teacher and proud Small-Town Jew who, after surthriving six years in Brooklyn for her husband's surgical residency, is finally back in Wisconsin where she belongs! At least until the end of the two-year surgical fellowship, that is. It's a wild ride, and she's ready to tell you all about it! Archives
September 2019
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