The hazards of hindsight

There’s a heat rising from my nervous stomach, it reaches my face, and flushes my cheeks. It always starts out with disappointment in my gut, eye-roll inducing frustration in my throat, and embarrassment painted across my face. I call it regret reflux, and it’s by no means a medical condition.

“I bartered my dignity”

It’s induced when I recall an interaction where I bartered my dignity. Passing bargains I made hoping for acceptance, a sign of life, or a momentary gratification, none of which were worth the cost. 

Of course these moments were brought on by the split. I spent so much time bargaining, planning, and trying to find a way to outwit the loss in my life. Lopping off reactions, watering down my feelings, and outright lying to make others more comfortable seemed worthy pursuits. 

“How could I undervalue myself so thoroughly?”

Now though when I return to those moments, re-reading an email, recalling a conversation, or discovering a small note in a journal entry, I’m immediately hurtled into the heat of frustration. How could I think my feelings mattered so little? How could I undervalue myself so thoroughly?

Upon running into one another unexpectedly just after his admission that he no longer loved me.
Him: I can’t stand to see the vitriol in your eyes. 
Me: I’m so sorry! I was tipsy, it was dick move on my part. I’m not angry.

 

Upon being asked to meet a friend’s partner, not feeling able to do so, and making several excuses. 
Her: Wow, why are you being so flakey, are you mad?
Me: No, not one bit! I was just thinking about our trip and how much fun it will be….etc...subject change.

 

Upon repeatedly informing friends of the split.
Them: But everything between you two is actually fine?
Me: Oh yeah! We’re going to be friends, everything is sublime!

I want to scold and hug past Jessie in equal parts. She was angry and overwhelmed and scared all at once, I know this, I was there after all. A tangled mess of nerves that craved someone to embrace her, coddle her, and tuck her in promising tomorrow would be better. 

“it didn’t matter, not one bit”

So she swallowed all those terrible feelings and pasted a lying smile on her face. Telling herself that the blurry mess of emotions inside didn’t matter, not one bit. All that mattered was convincing people to draw nearer. 

There are moments now when I wish I could go back; change my answers, tell the truth, and explain exactly how I felt. Deliver the exhaustive honesty I practice these days in each moment and let the consequences come. I’ve learned that those consequences are almost always respect peppered with surprise. 

“a valuable commodity”

Even if there was some magical time-traveling pegasus that could deliver me into these moments, I doubt it would cure my regret reflux. I’m slowly realizing I need to give past Jessie some slack. She may have traded away our dignity too readily, but she managed to teach me that my self-respect is a valuable commodity.