losing my opinion.
Have you ever been friends with someone and then connected on social media and thought, “oh, hell”?
You know…you like them, you enjoy their company and conversation, you look forward to seeing them and then, “Crap! They like (fill-in-the-blank with political group, religious group, life ideology, musician, sports team that drives you crazy)?! How can we be friends?”
No? Just me? Okay then.
I love it when this happens, because it reminds me what I like about people is people. Not opinions. And it reminds me to keep my mouth shut from time to time. This is not my gift. I have been (in the past, ahem), described as opinionated. Ew. But I’ve traditionally worn it with pride. As in, “look at me with all the things I’m right about”. Super appealing. The older I get, the less important telling everyone what I think becomes. Thank God.
There are still things that are important to me. There are things I feel strongly about. They just all take a backseat to sharing my life with people.
Remember when Hanes or Fruit of the Loom or whomever began making stuff “tagless for comfort”? They were on to something. Labels make me uncomfortable. They irritate. They rub me the wrong way.
But they’re just…so…easy. It’s convenient for me to say “oh, she’s one of those” and file her away in that box. And then I miss WHO SHE IS. Which is THE WHOLE POINT.
You know what else is easy? Telling you what I think. You know what’s hard and necessary? Showing you who I am.
But that’s really all that’s worth anything in the long run.