Friday, November 23, 2012

I am not my possessions

The other day I was betrayed by what I thought was a good friend of mine. I went through a series of emotions, but the most overwhelming one was sadness. I was hurt because I thought this person was really my friend; I thought that if anything was wrong she would tell me. I knew there was a problem, but I am not one to try to guess what your problem is. I heard rumors, but I am not one to listen to rumors either… so I waited; I waited for her to tell me. She didn’t.
Eventually, I found out what the problem was and it was ridiculously petty.  To be perfectly honest, I’m a little insulted at how petty it is. The truth is I did nothing to her. In fact, her own insecurities are the one to blame and be upset with.
I went over it in my head what I would say to her if I ever saw her, or if she ever reached out to me. But the overwhelming feeling is why? What good would come out of it and what gratification would I get? The obvious answer is: none. Me reading my resume, talking about what cars I drive, where I live, where I shop, how much money I make, where I work, and what type of shoes I wear are foolish. In fact that just puts me on her level. The thought that possessions dictate who a person is, to me, are a clear indicator of insecurities and low self esteem. Don’t get me wrong, I am not knocking people for accomplishing things in life but my self-worth are not my possessions. Despite what worldly possessions I have gathered, I am no better than the next person.
Instead of entertaining a petty argument, I’ll choose the high road…something she can’t seem to ever find.