Day 0259

I’ve been thinking.
Where is the line between forgiveness and enabling?
If you forgive a spouse who cuckolds you for example, does that at some level affirm to him that he can have his cake and eat it too?
And once that line’s been crossed for the first time, one must then know where the edges of the boundaries are and be able to play with them in a much finer way …
I like to think I could genuinely forgive a first, single, simple transgression: we all are somewhat weak in the face of physical enthusiasm and attraction.
But a complex or long lived, multiple and conscious series of deceits or a state of total duplicity? Those things are beyond, if you ask me. No woman – or man – deserves to have their trust abused that badly.
As I learned the other day: compassion always, self-protection/self-worth always.
Good luck to you.

Day 0194

Someone told me I must be feeling quite ‘ashamed’ about my unfortunate involvement in a partial-man’s deception of his wife. I nodded politely when this was said, because I’m Canadian and that’s what we do. The comment didn’t stick with me much at the time but it raised itself in my brain last week like a deep splinter buoyed to the surface by a bubble of pus.

And while I’m the first person to feel (about anything) that it was ‘my bad’, I surprised myself because the honest truth is: I just don’t feel that way at all.

First of all I have a principle of taking responsibility for the decisions I make. Even when they’re bad, I don’t feel ashamed of the things I choose to do. If I had chosen to live the sham he created, I might have regretted it, but I couldn’t be ashamed of it because I had chosen it. That’s my theory anyway.

I absolutely don’t feel proud of the situation I became part of. But I also truly believe I laid out the parameters by which I would continue to feel ok about things.

And then had my kindness, generosity and (certainly) naivete taken advantage of. That’s quite different from choosing to be part of something I would never have agreed to be part of.

So I don’t think I deserve to feel ashamed in the slightest.

Responsibility = Able to respond

Here is a terribly deep question for a Monday afternoon:

Am I responsible for another person’s mistakes? Especially if they don’t take responsibility for those mistakes themselves?

Of course, I know I’m not, that would be ridiculous, but that doesn’t stop my brain from telling me I should have fixed everything when I had the chance.

My rule of thumb is a tad rigid (surprise!) and has always been:

If you couldn’t stand for people to know about it, don’t do it, Let me pluck an example out of the air: for instance, If you don’t want people to think you’re a two-timing bastard, don’t cheat on your spouse. If you don’t want people to think you say stupid things, don’t say stupid things.

I mean, we all make mistakes and errors of  judgement, but I think a Real Human Being wears them, maybe not proudly, but wears them as part of the many coloured cloak that is Them. I can forgive just about anyone for being themselves, but not for complaining when their self is presented back to them.

I’ve stuffed up many times, hurt many people, made bad, pathetic and ridiculous choices. I wouldn’t like it if any of those mistakes were plastered publicly somewhere, but I would realise that if I did or said those things, I can’t really complain too much without looking like a complete dick.