I am reeling with shock and hurt over something someone said to me today.
I was talking to a relative on the phone about my upcoming move. And because I have the tendency to overshare, I started talking about all my anxieties about living in that small town again.
She snapped at me, “I was hoping that now that you’re older you would have mellowed out, but I can see that you are still full of hate.”
What?! Full of hate? Is that how people see me? Is that how I come across?
I guess perhaps I have sometimes said, “I hate that place.” (I don’t think I said that today though.) But it’s not really hate I feel. It’s dread. And fear. I am afraid of the social atmosphere in that town, because I did not cope well in it in the past. I am afraid of certain people, because they have hurt me before and I don’t feel that they are emotionally safe people for me to be around. I am afraid of finding myself in situations that I won’t know how to handle, and I am afraid of handling social situations wrongly and saying the wrong things and getting into trouble with people. I am afraid of that because it has happened more times than I can count. It is not an unfounded fear.
So I will admit to being fearful. But hateful? I wonder if it’s just this one person who sees me this way, or if others do too.
I am deeply wounded by my relative’s words. What a way to kick me when I’m down.