October 14th, 2013 by Karen
(Please note, I am so very blessed to have an amazing husband who this post is definitely not about. Love you honey!)
Everyone has that horror story from their dating past. The one that you recall with a smirk and a shake of the head, knowing full well that, while in the moment you felt devastated at the end of the relationship, time has proven just how incredibly lucky you were that you were able to walk away from the train wreck relatively unscathed.
Still, it sucks. It’s hard in the thick of it when you can’t help but feel helpless and unwanted. And it’s even worse when the other party throws mixed signals at you like confetti at a celebratory ticker tape parade.
Been there, done that. Hate seeing others have to learn it the hard way.
I know just how lucky I am. I have a very close knit family who supported me when I thought my world was unraveling (it wasn’t…and boy, that bullet that had my name on it was more like a rocket) and gave me solid ground to stand on. My #1 rule has always been “Don’t mess with my family.” (#2 is “Don’t mess with my friends” and #2 1/2 is “Don’t rearrange my kitchen.” but I digress…) In fact, if you look at my extended family tree, you can count the number of divorces on one hand. Note that I said extended…I have an enormous number of cousins, aunts, uncles, all with varying degrees of greats, and in that sea of people when we commit, we commit. We are practical farming stock. We expect honesty and trust and our word is as good as our bond. Hardship is our middle name and we wear it proudly in the dust on our boots and the callouses on our palms. We work hard, we love unconditionally, and we tolerate very little interference with either of these pursuits.
Perhaps it’s our pragmatic point of view or the early maturity that comes easily to our family that makes it hard when we date those that seem to share our values and maturity and things fall apart. The expectation of honesty is so baked into our core that when that trust is irrevocably broken with lies and deceit, it leaves us in a bit of a tailspin.
As family however, we close ranks around fallen members. The flip side of that congenial trustworthiness is not an easy-going forgiveness. It is a steely-eyed suspicion of motive and a rather impressive amount of discussion of every little comment and nuance. Regaining our respect is a very difficult thing. Not impossible, but the effort needed is great.
If you’re worthy of our family, show us.
If not, you’ll find the doors to our castle permanently barred.