A Hard Truth
I was unloading a myriad of frustrations to my therapist recently, which is one of the beautiful offerings of therapy. It’s a safe place to dump feelings without judgement. Most of the issues had to do with interpersonal relationships and my desire to fix what seems broken. She interrupted me with an incredulous face and blunt question, “Did you really think you could make everyone happy?”
I replied with a heartfelt, honest, enthusiastic, “Yes!”
Which lead to her eyes softening, her tone quieting, and a long explanation of a hard truth that she figured I had accepted years ago. The essence of the explanation boiled down to a concept most people probably know and know well.
You can’t make everyone happy.
I really, truly, earnestly believed I could. Really. I had spent 34 years reaching the seemingly attainable goal with a few exceptions. It was rare that I would face conflict with anyone that couldn’t be smoothed over with a chat or hug.
But a crisis or trauma tests that belief to its core. Heck, just being a human and living amongst humans makes that belief pretty much impossible.
So, here I am. Learning a hard truth much later in life than most do.
The support of my friends and family has been overwhelming positive. I can’t make that clear enough. It makes my heart burst with gratitude and can bring me to tears almost instantly. There is so much beauty and love in this life. But there have been some very ugly, heartbreaking scenarios with people I care about that have played out since Simon’s death. As if losing him wasn’t awful enough.
That’s where this journey is at the moment: grasping a simple yet profound idea. Learning not to dwell on the negative. Appreciating the good. Doing what I can to be right with God knowing I can’t always be right with man. Surrounding my fragile soul with those who can meet me where I’m at.
That’s where happiness is.