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 lesbian obligatory game of Scrabble.
This past weekend she invited me to her cottage. I was looking forward to getting to know her better and to spend 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 on a critical note. 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 again I commented she turned to me and with more than a little irritation in her voice said “Katharine, 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 trying 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.