Two weeks ago I was looking at an ingredients list which noted that the product included "trivial amounts" of somesuperlongwordthatprobablymeanstheingredientissuperfakeandcausescancer. Since then I've been thinking about the word trivial and the lies we tell ourselves and each other because what fun would it be to just read the product label and not allow it to provoke deep thought? That would be way too easy, right?
Typically trivial is defined as "of very little importance or value; insignificant."
Typically trivial is defined as "of very little importance or value; insignificant."
Over the years there are a lot of things I've trivialized in an attempt to make them less painful.
"It didn't really matter anyway." "I don't really care." "Oh, it's ok. Really, it's no big deal. I shouldn't have said anything."
I especially like to act like something doesn't matter from the get-go...that way, I figure, it won't hurt if it doesn't work out. It's like the Gin Blossoms said--if you don't expect too much, you might not be let down. That verse sort of became my modus operandi for years. I was so tired of feeling hurt and let down, so it seemed easier to not have expectations or hopes at all.
My freshman year of college my boyfriend and I were at different schools and two hours apart. I proposed an "open" relationship and wonder how much of that proposal was motivated by his previous unfaithfulness and my desire to protect myself; after all, if it's open, he's not doing anything wrong, right? And if I'm kissing other boys, how he treats me won't hurt so much.
So I'm trying to be intentional about being hopeful, admitting that things matter, and being cool with the fact that I'm going to be hurt by people--and then letting myself hurt. A friend pointed out to me that whenever I get close to something painful I quickly toss in a rejoinder or other qualifier to exit the moment. Sometimes I think I do that because my problems and hurts feel trivial in light of how wonderful my life is overall--as if a great life makes complaining or hurting unacceptable. Or maybe I'm trying to make something less painful by quickly jumping to the good.
And then sometimes I wonder if I qualify the hurtful matter (lets say feeling rejected or forgotten) with something positive (how someone else values me) because I fail to realize my value and still trying to prove that I am, in fact, important.
And, this, friends is why I'm not reading any more product labels.
In dating news, tomorrow I'm meeting Match Guy #5 who I've easily enjoyed corresponding with the most and also the one who reads my blog. We've agreed to meet up in the early afternoon, see what we think, and if we're both a "go," go out on a "proper" date that night. Something about this arrangement makes me think of a dating show. Maybe we should each bring a rose and let it sit in plain sight the entire time (like on the one-on-one dates on The Bachelor) to remind us of the upcoming decision.
p.s. I'm grateful that the cashier at Sonic gave me three lemon slices this morning to go with my Diet Coke.
"It didn't really matter anyway." "I don't really care." "Oh, it's ok. Really, it's no big deal. I shouldn't have said anything."
I especially like to act like something doesn't matter from the get-go...that way, I figure, it won't hurt if it doesn't work out. It's like the Gin Blossoms said--if you don't expect too much, you might not be let down. That verse sort of became my modus operandi for years. I was so tired of feeling hurt and let down, so it seemed easier to not have expectations or hopes at all.
My freshman year of college my boyfriend and I were at different schools and two hours apart. I proposed an "open" relationship and wonder how much of that proposal was motivated by his previous unfaithfulness and my desire to protect myself; after all, if it's open, he's not doing anything wrong, right? And if I'm kissing other boys, how he treats me won't hurt so much.
So I'm trying to be intentional about being hopeful, admitting that things matter, and being cool with the fact that I'm going to be hurt by people--and then letting myself hurt. A friend pointed out to me that whenever I get close to something painful I quickly toss in a rejoinder or other qualifier to exit the moment. Sometimes I think I do that because my problems and hurts feel trivial in light of how wonderful my life is overall--as if a great life makes complaining or hurting unacceptable. Or maybe I'm trying to make something less painful by quickly jumping to the good.
And then sometimes I wonder if I qualify the hurtful matter (lets say feeling rejected or forgotten) with something positive (how someone else values me) because I fail to realize my value and still trying to prove that I am, in fact, important.
And, this, friends is why I'm not reading any more product labels.
In dating news, tomorrow I'm meeting Match Guy #5 who I've easily enjoyed corresponding with the most and also the one who reads my blog. We've agreed to meet up in the early afternoon, see what we think, and if we're both a "go," go out on a "proper" date that night. Something about this arrangement makes me think of a dating show. Maybe we should each bring a rose and let it sit in plain sight the entire time (like on the one-on-one dates on The Bachelor) to remind us of the upcoming decision.
p.s. I'm grateful that the cashier at Sonic gave me three lemon slices this morning to go with my Diet Coke.




