Recently I began dating a woman whom I quite liked. There were no earth shattering moments of lust, but I felt prepared to forgo lust for like. Shelby seemed healthy or at least healthy-ish. We were enjoying dinners and walks and of course, the obligatory game of Scrabble, one of the ten lesbian commandments.

This past weekend she invited me to her cottage. I was looking forward to getting to know her better and spending some time in nature. When she came to pick me up in her silver Audi, I saw that her mirror on the driver’s side was completely crushed. I took notice but said nothing; unusual for me but the trip had yet to begin and I did not want to start it with a criticism.

As we pulled into her driveway I could see that her bay window was broken. I turned to her and said “Oh my goodness! Look what happened to your beautiful bay window!”

She calmly replied “Oh that? That’s not new, that happened over three years ago.” Three years ago?? Yikes! When I mentioned it again, she turned to me and with more than a little irritation in her voice said “Katharina, do you not know how much a window costs? Three thousand dollars!”

This from a woman who just bought a second edition of Tolkien’s ‘The Hobbit’ for $15,000.

I did not judge Shelby for her choices. Wait. Who am I kidding? Of course I judged her. But what I am working so hard to do is judge less and accept more. I had a choice to make; stay with her and live with the broken window, or extricate myself now while the extricating is still rather easy. I chose the latter.

Up until Shelby I had always chose the former hoping that with enough nudging and cajoling that ‘She’ will she eventually see the light or more precisely see her life through my lens. That was my ‘Broken’.

I am not the wounded whisperer. I need to keep looking at where I am broken; where I need to be more accountable, more honest and always more kind.

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