Flick of a switch

“Sometimes you do the sweetest, most thoughtful things and other times you seem so cold and detached.”

There it is, one of my least favourite descriptions that people use to describe my personality.

It’s a statement I’ve heard on several occasions during the course of my life.

Acquaintances use it during the “getting to know me” stage, to try to understand who I am really am. (Good luck with that!) Depending on how committed I am to that relationship, I either do my best to give them an explanation of why it may sometimes feel that way or they get a shallow explanation and I move on. My philosophy for personal relationships is simple, accept who I am, as I am, or walk away. No hard feelings, trust me!!! You can expect the same from me in return. I have no interest in changing who I am and/or forcing anyone else to change who they are.

It’s not often that this will come from someone I consider a friend, but here it is. He’s sitting across the table from me, “sometimes you do the sweetest, most thoughtful things and other times you seem so cold and detached.”

There is a sadness in his eyes that make his words feel like a smack in the face. When coming from someone I care about, no other statement makes me feel more misunderstood. No words hurt me quite as much.

I can feel the flicking of a switch inside me that immediately takes me to my defensive line. I’m sitting on the fence that divides two very strong emotions, sadness and anger. I stay there for a second, trying not to fall to either side of that fence. I process what explanation this conversation requires. He recognizes where I am and I can see that he regrets his words.

But it’s too late to take them back now.

I take my relationships seriously, and my loyalty knows no bounds. There is little I wouldn’t do for someone I love. My relationships last a long time, and anyone who I consider a good friend knows this about me. There is never a question about my love and reliability. Never.

While I may unplug for a while to focus on myself, all of my friends/family know I am just a phone call away if I’m needed. Always. You send out the bat signal, I’m at your door with two coffees and the biggest hug you’ve ever had. Ask anyone.

People often tell me how lucky I am to be able to detach from a situation like it’s a strength. I’m not sure how lucky that really is. Sometimes it feels like a curse. When someone I care about makes this statement, it stings. Bad.

My need to detach comes from a dark place, these moments are reminders that those places continue to shape me. Everyday. Every action. No matter how far I’ve come from that world.

It’s a cold world I live in sometimes.

Still, I make no apologies for how I chose to survive.

He knows this.

There is no explanation needed and we move on to the next topic.