Holding my Tongue
Some people have no filter. They say whatever they think or feel. I, however, am a champion at holding my tongue. People have no idea what I really think of them.
Take my co-worker for example. She’s a bitch. A cold-hearted, sharp-tongued bitch. I think it might injure her if she were required to be kind to someone. She is cruel, judgmental, and miserable. Every day, I hope that she finds a new job so I can be free of her. She has absolutely no idea how I feel about her. As far as she’s concerned, we’re friends (she wants me to text important things to her during the weekend and share details of my sex life with her – like that’s going to happen!) While she tells me exactly what she thinks of me, due to my silence she has no idea what I think of her. I think it keeps the peace in the office. Should I actually voice my opinions, all hell would break loose, and I’d probably get fired. She can say whatever she wants, but things would get nasty should I say anything negative.
I am also tight-lipped about my sexuality. My family has no idea that I’m bi-sexual. They are all very Christian, and all that it implies. My mother has made it clear that she doesn’t want them to know. I respect her, so I respect her wishes – at least until the point that I might need to tell them. If I end up in a LTR with a woman, I would come out to my family, but until that time, they have no idea. I feel like I’m doing myself, my son, my family, and the entire LGBT community (how many minds could I open by coming out?) a disservice by keeping this information to myself, but I do it out of respect to my mother.
Confrontations are another time when I remain closed-mouthed. I learned a long time ago, it’s better to be happy than to be right. With arguments (at least in my experience) so often, it’s just about each person feeling the need to be right – of knowing that the other person agrees with them. I have released that need. I no longer have to know that someone else agrees with me. It isn’t important to me that they believe me. I know I’m right, and that’s all that matters. If they need to feel right, I can give that to them in the name of peace. Obviously, I would never do anything against my good judgment, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t allow an argument to end (or never start) if it doesn’t do me any harm.
I don’t think of myself as a peace-keeper, but I’m beginning to wonder if I might be.
I’m also wondering at what point the dam will burst and 20 years of pent up words will release in a gush of nastiness.
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