I realized the other day that I resent the strangest people.
I resent pregnant people I don’t know. I am a total pregnant woman judger. I make snap judgements on what kind of relationship she may have with her spouse – or if her spouse is present, I make a little more informed judgement.
I resent crap parents. People who are ignoring their little kids in the grocery store, people who aren’t holding their little ones’ hands as they cross the street.
I saw a TV show today starring a mom with her two 20-something pygmy dwarf children and I resented her because she gets her kids. They are tiny and they are probably a lot of work, but they survived. They are filling her days with the things kids should fill a mother’s days with.
I even find myself resenting people my age who are just… alive. I caught myself thinking the other day as I looked at a few friends talking in a Starbucks: “You were a baby once and you don’t even know how much of a miracle it is that you made it.”
Friends of mine on Facebook who complain about their late night diaper changes, or revel in being “kid-free” for the night… I resent them.
Sorry friends. I know you don’t know you’re stabbing me in my guts with your unintentionally thoughtless posts.
Friends of mine who are pregnant?
I’m sorry. I know it makes me a crap person right now. But I resent you too, friends.
I want to be in your shoes. Blissfully knocked up, oblivious to loss, nothing but hope for the future.
I miss that Me. The one that was like you.
The innocence is gone.
My mom shared a story with me about when my grandpa lost his job. He said over and over as he coped with his sadness, “Just pray that I don’t get bitter.”
I don’t want to be bitter. I cried to my mom on the phone today: I don’t see myself as the type of person who will become angry and bitter, the type of person who resents a pregnant friend. I expect more of myself. I’m better than that.
But sometimes I need to be okay with being temporarily that person. Because otherwise I am going to jam that person down deep inside and let her fester until she’s so pissed off at being silenced that she takes over completely.
Brave, strong, “positive-spin” me can take center stage for most of the time, because that’s the me that I expect of myself and that’s the me that happens most naturally. But every once in a while I’m going to take a personal day (to protect my coworkers), cry until my eyes hurt, and internally (and sometimes externally) rally against the universe.
I think the only way to overcome resentment is to embrace it.
But just an awkward side hug.