So I saw one of my ghosts yesterday, just as I suspected I would.
But something was really interesting about the whole thing.
read more ↓It wasn’t how said ghost pretended not to see me, even though it was watching me like a hawk when it thought I wasn’t looking. And it wasn’t how I felt its fear rush through me when we crossed paths, which kind of didn’t surprise me. It had said and done some horrible things to me and probably never expected to see me again, so I probably would’ve felt fearful too if I’d done that and crossed paths with me again.
What was so interesting about running into my ghost – not coincidentally, the one I least wanted to run into this weekend – was how sad it looked. How pained. How uncomfortable in its body and caged and scared, yet trying desperately to hide behind a carefully crafted veneer of perfect hair, perfect clothes, perfect accessories.
I can’t lie to you – for years I fantasized about what I would say to this ghost if I ever saw it again. I fantasized about saying hurtful and mean things in an effort to equal the emotional anguish that was inflicted on me for years. But when I finally saw it and registered the truth behind the façade, I suddenly realized that all those things that were said and done to me weren’t about me, they were about it.
I think that when people are unfulfilled in their own lives, it’s much easier for them to point fingers at other people and tell them how to live theirs instead of looking within to fix what’s broken. I think that when someone believes deep down that they’re not worth much, they’re more apt to say and do rotten things to others because on some level they don’t think their words or actions will have any impact. I think that when someone lacks love for themselves, they don’t have any to give others. And I think that when people are judgmental about others, it’s really because they’re judgmental and hard on themselves, and probably beat themselves up a lot, too.
I never saw it before. I never saw it before because I was so wrapped up in the fact that this ghost, no matter what I did, refused to like me despite the fact that I’m a good, caring, wonderful person. It would pick me apart in person, behind my back, to both people who knew me and virtual strangers. Not coincidentally, I was doing the same thing to myself during that time. Its actions only solidified what I both thought to be true and fought to disbelieve on a daily basis.
Suddenly, both the reasons why it was a part of my life and the reasons why it treated me the way that it did became clear.
And knowing that, I knew I could finally et it go.
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