The other day I was grocery shopping with a friend at Giant.
We were walking back and forth, looking for a healthy but also salty snack, when a man abruptly stops me and mumbles, "You're going to regret getting that tattoo the rest of you're life!"
He then walked away, but across the aisles, I could still feel his glare at me.
The man was referring to a tattoo I got last May, a couple days before my college graduation. Etched on my chest is the Martina McBride lyric, "With a broken wing; you oughta see her fly."
If he knew me, or was a part of my life, he would have understood the meaning behind the image on my skin that I have the pleasure of seeing every day.
After I got the tattoo, I wrote the following on Instagram:
'She'd tell him about her dreams, And he'd just shoot them down. He loved to make her cry. You're crazy for believing, You'll ever leave the ground, He said only angels know how to fly.' Life is tough. Life beats you down. Life tells you you're not good enough, you're not worthy, you're never going to be the person you want to be. But what I've learned throughout four of the toughest years of my life is that broken is still beautiful. Wounds will heal and beauty still grows from the darkest places. Peace comes after pain and love comes from your heart. This is a reminder that times are tough, but they do not last forever. This is a reminder that I am a survivor, a warrior who will fight until the day I die. This is a reminder that mental health is and will always be a serious issue, but anxiety and depression are not who I am. This is a reminder that I love myself enough not to give up, and that I will fly to all the places my heart dreams of. This is a reminder that life is worth living, and to never forget the hope that the future brings.
Maybe I should have whipped out my phone at that instant and gave the man at Giant clarification, because clearly he was clueless to connection I have to the ink that reminds me I have a place in the world every day.
And no, sir, I do not regret getting that tattoo, even for a second.
After I left the store with my cart full of groceries, the man's words still circled my mind. Not because I questioned my decision with the tattoo, but why did he go out of his way to mutter unkind words towards me?
What had I done that was directly impacting his life?
Was the tattoo triggering to something internal that caused him to lash out?
Was he simply having a bad day and took his negativity out on me?
No matter what the man's motivation was, I did not deserve to be treated unkindly. No one does.
The interaction reminded me of the time I was at a gas station, freaking out because I was stuck at the pump and my car died. I had hurried in to get help from the clerk and called someone to tow my car, but I also was trying to figure out how on earth I was going to make it to class on time, how I was getting to work later, and how I was going to pay for the malfunction in the car.
As I fidgeted in my vehicle and waited for the towing company, a woman came up to my window, tapped and uttered to me, "You know while you are taking your sweet time in your car, others are waiting for you to move so they can get gas and move on with their days."
She then turned and scurried into the gas station to pay.
I was already trying to manage my spiking anxiety levels, so I could not stomach the harsh assumption that she had made about my apparent inconsideration towards others.
When she came back out, I told her, "I just wanted to let you know that my car will not start, and so I am sorry to cause any disruption to others, but I simply cannot move."
You could instantly see her regret from the first comment and she even asked if she could give me help.
But what if she would have asked if I needed help instead of judging who I am initially?
Did she really think I was that self-centered?
What was making her believe in my negative character before knowing anything about me?
Was the assumption because of the way I looked? Or how I acted?
Again, I did not deserve to be judged how she did. I deserve to be heard, understood, and treated with more kindness. Everyone deserves to be given the time to be known.
I can list more stories such as the previous ones without a problem...
When one of my sorority sisters was disappointed I did not give her a gift for bid day but her sister got one. At the time, I did not even have money for food. I literally had $0.68 in my bank account. I thought the hand-written note that I took the time to compose was enough because that was all I had to give, but instead, she assumed it was because I did not want to get her something.
I felt so ashamed when I heard that news through the grape vine.
Or when one of my college professors was not going to allow me to make up a missed test because she thought I was unprepared and skipped.
Actually, I did not make the class because I had continual nightmares every day leading up to the trial I had against the man who assaulted me. My anxiety and depression were at the ultimate high, and at the time I was also returning to self-harm.
I had spent so many hours studying, but nothing was retained because my mental state was completely deteriorated at that point. It honestly slipped my mind and took all of my courage and energy just to talk to her about it.
Or when I heard one of my fellow graduates state, "People without cords on their gowns look so weird. It wasn't even hard to earn them."
Really?
Am I supposed to apologize for having to work full-time hours to pay for my education while also dealing with clinical mental illnesses and traumatic events throughout my time at Ursinus? I simply was not as privileged to be able to devote as much time to my studies, but I felt silly because those cords were not resting on my shoulders that day.
Many times I have had interactions such as the ones I have mentioned, but I should never have had to feel apologetic for who I am.
During those times I truly did. I wanted to crawl out of my skin and put someone else's on. I wanted to run so far that no one could find me. I wanted to be invisible, because maybe then, I did not have to be who I am.
Hating oneself is the undoubtedly the worst feeling. There is no escaping who I am, and I fight every day to love that person. I cannot even count the number of times I have come close to giving up.
I may be a clumsy, unlucky, emotional, and confusing individual who rarely has her ducks in a row, but I am still worthy of being who I am.
The previous incidents are absolutely nothing compared to what some individuals experience every day for being themselves, so honestly, I cannot complain.
I know I am fortunate for everything I do have.
Pain is relative, but we need to understand that being judgmental and unkind hurts others' souls.
People are judged for things they cannot control like the color of their skin, their family, their education, their income level, their disability, and so much more.
Granted some factors can be transformed technically, but sometimes change is not always an easy or smart option.
Besides, how is that person's life impacting yours?
Truly?
How is anyone who is simply living and breathing causing you pain? I honestly want to know how someone making a decision in his or her life correlates to you, as a stranger. I cannot comprehend the connection, yet millions of people will be quick to lash their crude tongue towards others without getting to know them. It breaks my heart.
We have forgotten how to be patient, considerate, and kind.
We are so quick to judge, but will defend ourselves when others do it to us.
We lack the ability to give people the benefit of the doubt. We refuse to forgive and hold grudges until we cannot hold our breath anymore. We are selfless and refuse to provide help to those who need it. We assume everyone takes advantage of our kindness instead of believing people will better themselves.
We have no problem with deciding to cause someone pain, but hesitate to love.
With that being said I beg that you stop assuming people are not trying. Stop assuming that people are undeserving of help and guidance. Stop assuming that people are living with hate in their souls and out to get you. Stop assuming that people are not worthy of your love and affection.
People are people. People are meant to live. People are meant to choose how to live. People are meant to chase happiness however they seem suitable.
People are meant to be loved, and we all need to lend a hand in giving more of it.