Chapter 8: Waiting
I wait all night for replies from absent people
Twenty-three years is not really a long time, but for me, it feels like it. While I was getting my nails done, thanks to the kindness of my grandmother, the nail artist asked me if I was patient. I said yes without any real hesitation alongside a chuckle. I mean how could I not be patient. The concept and virtue were drilled into me as a child. The phrase I grew up hating, but living based on its conditioning, was "Patience is a virtue", little did I know that the scripture had more than one virtue within its religious text. Often, I believe that my patience is a curse upon me. Patience as a young child grew into tolerance as a young woman. Tolerance was my new patience. This was my dark passenger as I keep re-watching the show Dexter, the terms keep popping in my head.
No amount of manners, politeness, or patience should be an excuse to put up with what I do. Truthfully, in my own journey through life, it has been a special type of struggle to correct this instinct and physically voice my disdain for how I am treated. There is no elegance in being treated poorly. I refuse to believe that turning the other cheek was meant to be used so liberally. Am I really supposed to sit idle, and smile like I won a trophy when some snaps in my face? It is expected of me to remain calm when threatened or insulted. What power lies in being belittled or hearing those you care about belittled. Explain to me why i'm supposed despite the violence and aggression, be the better person and take this damage. I am human, not a screen, or doll for the world to tear a part for fun. Remind me where the logic is in this assumption. Sit still, smile, and make the other person feel better. A manta so deeply embedded into my being, i feel it slither about my skin like magic. Patience is what some call it. Tolerance is what it was other days.
Patience can be positive and have excellent motivations and results. Tolerance is often negative and produces results we never wanted. Two sides of the same coin, often indistinguishable from one another. It's a painful thing to be aware of. However, something deep within me worries about what happens when tolerance and patience wear out. What will I do when all that energy is lost because it was wasted on the wrong people. There is no amount of sheet masks, anime, or cute aesthetic blogs to recharge the type of energy it takes to be truly patient, or tolerate the wrong things.
I suppose we will have to see won't we dear reader, how many flips of this coin are left.
Holding on to my gems, and praying that the political unrest and its aftermath don't drain it all. It's a miracle I made it through 2016 & 2017 intact, and able to love like I do. I'm waiting, I'm hopeful, and I'm learning. There is a difference between patience and tolerance.
Find more thoughts, prose, blog posts, and ramblings of a chaotic woman on my blog. Comments, questions, concerns, inquiries, and shares are always welcome.