Everything you ever write can be interpreted as something it was not intended to be. The kindest, nicest words can be turned around, and suddenly, they are an insult.
We are always the asshole (or bad person) in someone’s story.
You think someone did you wrong? Maybe they did. But remember: haven’t you stepped over anyone recently? Dismissed someone? Ignored a message or a call? With no ill intent, and yet, it will make you the asshole in someone’s story. You didn’t behave they way the other wanted/needed/expected you to behave.
That’s life. There are two sides to every story. The thing is, I know it and realise it, and yet, I can’t always remember it. And even worse, I can’t act on it.
The psycho needles (acupuncture treating depression) seem to help. I am seeing a lot clearer all of a sudden. Maybe I just pretend to see clearer. Who knows and who cares?
I need to focus on the good and stop blaming myself or making me the victim. After all, I am strong and I am opinionated. I have a voice. And I decided that I will raise it more often from now on.
Kill them with kindness, compassion, and empathy.