A couple of months ago something happened that caused some hurt and sadness. I was seeing an event for what it was – under par, less than wonderful, possibly adequate. I felt that my involvement in the project justified my opinion. Nevertheless, I was shocked when someone close to me expressed their opinion more bluntly than I was able to accept. It was clearly an example of “It’s ok for me to recognize this failure but don’t you dare say anything about my baby.”
This week I found myself involved in a situation that is even more laughable than the previous situation. With an entirely different set of people and circumstances, I feel like I’m in a remake of The Emperor’s New Clothes. Each time I replay the scene, I have to pinch myself and wonder if I was the only person in the room who saw what I saw.
I shake my head and puzzle over the pain I’ve caused myself. Clearly, I am running into this brick wall because my “Spidey” senses are tingling to their own drummer. I did speak up. I did express my opinion. Perhaps, in an effort to be diplomatic, I neglected to paint the entire picture. My diplomacy has not stopped me from looking at the situation, imagining the potential ridicule and waiting for all of the collective jaws to drop.
There are times in my life when those same “Spidey” senses tell me to run and not look back, but like a person who has just witnessed a horrible accident, I can’t turn away.
I am going to keep my eyes open and see what the future brings. I’m a person who can admit when I’m wrong and I’m hoping the outcome of this situation will give me the opportunity to do so. In the meantime, I’m staying away from blunt objects and rubbing my eyes more often.