A few weeks ago, one of my friends dumped me.
At first I was sad. I blamed and crucified myself for allowing the friendship to fall apart.
Then I got angry. He dropped me when I was most vulnerable. What kind of friend does that?
Then I would try to push it out of my mind. No use in gathering regret for the things I can’t change now.
Lather, rinse, repeat.
According to Lizabeth, my mentor, that’s what the typical grieving process is like. Different emotions are evoked each time when revisiting events that lead to the death of someone/something.
It was no secret that I was emotionally invested in the guy. I had been for a long time. After all, 7 years is a long time to know someone. We were comfortable with each other. We had fun with each other.
Looking back on it all, though, I also feel little used…and perhaps unfairly toyed with.
But despite how…crappy I can feel at times, the silver lining still shines brighter than the mushroom cloud.
[ image from wikipedia ]
I’ve always considered myself to be boy crazy. I’m reduced to an anxiety-ridden 16-year-old schoolgirl when it comes to dealing with a potential future mate. I always figured it was just raging hormones that made me that way. In a talk with my (amazing) mentor, though, I learned that wasn’t the case.
It’s not the guy that I want–it’s my desire to be validated by someone who appreciates me for who I am and what I have to offer, and the roots of this go deep.
I also learned what it means when people say, “The Cross is enough.”
I don’t need a guy to validate my existence. I don’t need a guy to tell me that I’m worth something.
God didn’t have to love me. God didn’t have to suffer for sinners whose best deeds are nothing more than filthy rags.
But He did.
That should be all the validation I’ll ever need. That is, until my idolatrous heart tells me otherwise.
I’m generally biased against professors who go straight back into academia after getting their PhD’s. I mean, how credible can the guy be if he’s never worked in the field that he’s teaching about?
My finance professor is one of those people. AND he looks like a frat boy. Double negative points.
He’s actually a pretty sharp dude. It makes me kinda mad, really. Being able to rag on professors tends to make me feel better about myself.
Anyhow, he said something in class this past Wednesday that really stuck with me:
Every dollar you spend is like casting a vote in support of that store or business.
A few hours later that day, I was sitting at Earth Fare trying to squeeze in some reading for my classes before I had to run off to work (yes, their groceries are often over-priced, but the anti-mainstream snob in me likes spending time and money there). One of the gentlemen who works there stopped to ask how I was doing. We chatted briefly. He talked about how college students bring in a lot of business to the store and how his daughter had just started college as well. A nice guy.
Then it hit me.
The apple cider and scone I bought there helps keep guys like him employed. Every dollar I spend on books, food, clothes, etc. directly affects someone’s job security.
I’m not saying it’s a good excuse for overspending or wasting money. It’s just another perspective to consider next time you’re eating out or grocery shopping.
[ image by esther17 ]