Soapbox Alert

Warning:  Rant ahead.  I can feel it in my bones.  And, I didn't sleep last night, so it might just be a little raw.

Sometimes, I just get frustrated with people.  More particularly the general ineffectiveness of communication and (often corresponding) weakness of human character.  The average person is involved in hundreds (thousands?) of relationships in their lifetime, ranging from those limited to a single interaction (grocery store clerk, bank teller, the person that catches you looking at them at a red light...) to the ones that do nothing short of altering your universe.  Relationships are one of the major reasons we're here on this earth in the first place.  They test us, allow us to be hurt and expose our weaknesses, teach us to forgive and be forgiven, and humble us.  They shape our priorities, opinions and decisions, and through them we experience the entire spectrum of emotion, from hopeless despair to giddy euphoria.  And, if we're lucky, we might just be able to catch a glimpse of the eternal happiness that is in store for us. 

My point about relationships is that they are tools, vehicles for experiences necessary for personal growth and development.  The problem is, a prerequisite for a meaningful relationship is vulnerablility.  As you connect with someone, you open yourself up to them, exposing your soft spots.  An honest, well-balanced relationship allows/forces both parties to be equally vulnerable, simultaneously creating and fulfillling a need for mutual trust and concern.  An unbalanced, disingenuous, or even unrequited relationship (as simple as a coworker you can't get along with, or as serious as a marriage) can be forced for the sake of utility, but more often than not fizzles out over time or ends messily.

My frustration is not with relationships (in the wise words of the Format, "I love love") but in the way people choose to go about developing them.  I am thoroughly convinced that it is in people's inability to communicate clearly their needs and wants that most relationships fail, or never get the chance to start.  It's easiest to explain in boy-girl terms, but at least in personal experience issues arise more frequently with coworkers and even roommates, considering in those situations you don't usually have a choice who the other party is.  Instead of being straightforward and honest, we tiptoe around others' feelings, thinking that we're being polite or gentle or tolerant.  In the romance department, what may seem like mystery and intrigue may honestly just be disinterest, but who would ever outright say "Sorry, I'm just not into you..."?  Instead, our imaginations take one glance or comment, and can twist and grow it into some dramatic, passionate love story, and we in our weakness forget its more-often-than-not innocent, unintentional beginning.  We retreat to our imaginations not because they are necessarily better than reality, but because our inability to say anything straightforward and honest prevents reality from holding much more value than what we dream up for our own personal storylines.

At work, we have candy.  (That sentence is probably the most awkward transition I've ever written, by the way.  I'm owning it, though.)  It's kept in one of the cabinets behind the teller line, easily accessible to all.  The last time we had candy, we all ate it too fast and then didn't have any for a month, which made us sad.  When this batch of candy came, we all made a verbal pact to limit our personal candy intake to a specific amount, so that a) we all wouldn't gain 5 pounds and b) it would last longer, thus, we could extend our enjoyment until the next candy run.  Simple, right?  Well, there's this one girl who decided the pact wasn't for her, and eats about five or so pieces each day.  In the grand scheme of things, who really cares, right?  For some reason, though, this really grates on my other coworker.  She complains to me about it, and even sends me e-mail counts of how many pieces the girl's eaten that day.  It's actually quite funny, and all done in good humor, but it really does bother her.  In a perfect world, my coworker would be able to just walk up to the candy-eater, express her disapproval in a non-judging manner, and the candy-eater would, without becoming personally offended, either offer some reason why she must consume those extra pieces, or commit to reforming her behavior.  My coworker would then walk away satisfied and put the issue out of her mind.

It's not a perfect world, though, and instead of having the freedom to express our concern/disapproval/constructive criticism, we live in fear of hurting someone's feelings.  When you have to see the person every day, you don't want to create tension by bringing up an issue.  So instead we all keep things to ourselves, ignoring issues and living in frustration because we're too afraid to say something that would solve the problem.  So how do we fix this?  It's a two-way street.  First, get over your fear of hurting someone's feelings.  More often than not, they could use some tough love.  It builds character.  I'm not saying blurt out everything that comes to you that you dislike about others, but if there really is an issue, why not get it out in the open?  Second, don't become so clouded by offense at someone's comment that you cannot be softened enough to learn from it.  This talk, given by a General Authority of my church, is much more eloquent than I at expressing the importance of getting over it.  There's no reason to let what someone else says prevent you from doing exactly what you want to do.  If you are given criticism that is meant to honestly improve you, consider accepting it, and be grateful for the person who wants you to be better.  If the criticism was in poor taste or purposefully hurtful, who really cares?  It's their weakness and judgement showing through the statement.

I so appreciate a good dose of honesty.  There's nothing wrong with saying, "I like you."  Or, "Please stop that."  Or, "I changed my mind." (That's usually the hardest one, because who wants others to know that they aren't completely resolved in every decision they ever make?)  A simple statement like that could break this stupid, tension-filled world we force upon ourselves, and allow honesty and genuine concern for others be the foundation of our relationships.  Just don't forget one of the most important statements... "I'm sorry."

Dear World,

Sometimes I just want to grab you by the collar and shake you.

Love,
Sarah.