On my way to my double Monday morning I will stop at the local coffee shop. I will order my medium iced regular as I always do; with my luck, it will be made incorrectly. I’ll swallow down the skim milk and Splenda and leave my change on the counter wishing the cashier a good day. While waitressing I will be referred to as “hey”, “you”, and just a throat-clearing cough. I’ll get a tip-less check and I will have a drink spilled on me. But, that’s okay. I won’t let it ruin my day.
When I go out to get my mom something from the grocery store someone will hit my Jeep with the corner of their door. I’ll pretend I didn’t notice. The cashier will not ask me how I am doing and will not look at me. I will smile, anyway. On my drive home, I will stop at the full-service gas station down the road. I’ll give the attendant twenty dollars but he’ll only pump eighteen. I figure if he needs those two dollars that bad… then he can have them. I still sing on the way home. I don’t roll my eyes at any of them. That is the curse of being sweet.
I have never been the person to send a plate back in a restaurant and I have never been the person to look straight forward when I walk. When I was a kid I saved ants from drowning in the pool and I cried anytime my parents raised their voice. They knew that was the curse of being sweet. Every other word out of my mouth will be “sorry”, and I apologize for that. Boys will speak down to me, mistaking my sweetness for stupidity. I can assure you- I am not stupid. I will be walked on, pushed over, and taken for granted. That doesn’t bother me; I understand the curse of being sweet.
I’m not suggesting I am the end all, be all of good samaritans. I do just as much wrong as the next guy. I go when I don’t have the right of way, I forget to tip the girl who makes my coffee, I swear at work by accident. But, at least I think, being nice is the easiest thing you can do. It’s simple. No extra effort. It will make someone’s day- believe me. Smile at the person next to you at a red light, tip your waitress, laugh when the cashier makes a bad joke.
I’ve been told so many times- “speak up for yourself”, “stop apologizing”, and “you’re just gonna take that”. But I don’t mind being cursed with eternal sweetness. I’m not going to become jaded or unapologetic just because some of the people around me have. I have watched my mother send gifts to people who haven't reached out to her in months. I have seen my father lend hands, advice, and money to people who don’t deserve it. That is not a virtue I wish to loose. You attract more bees with honey than with vinegar, anyways.
So, even if this wasn't harsh enough for you- if this was too sweet to get through to you- then at least understand what it is liked to be cursed to sweetness. Understand what it is like to have trouble standing up for yourself. Understand what it's like to think about the crooked look a stranger gives you for a day. Or two. Understand what it is like to genuinely cry over spilled milk. Have patience for the people with sugar in their mouth and honey in their hearts. I am sensitive and naive and overly trusting. I refuse to become angry or calloused or mean. This is the best life to be cursed with. You should try it.
