confrontation

Most of my life I've avoided confrontation. I don't like it. Would rather not deal with it. In high school I had 2 girls I considered close friends. Although by the end of senior year something had changed, I don't know what. There was never a confrontation for fight, but the night of graduation they were supposed to call me and they never did.

Which was fine. I went on to travel that summer. I had the most amazing summer traveling with Children of the American Revolution on Regional tour. I started in Seattle, Washington. I flew home for college orientation. I flew out to St. Louis, MO.

From St. Louis, MO to Nashville, TN to New Orleans, LA, to Huntsville, AL up to Kentucky to do some laundry at a friends house. From there to Indianapolis, IN to Gettysburg for another stay at a friends house before driving on to DC, or I think to be specific Alexandria, VA but I can't remember exaclty. Then from DC to someplace in New Hampshire.

I loved the girls I was rooming with. There were many of us. I loved the people on board. Children of the American Revolution is a patriotic youth organization. It starts on the local level with local societies, these comprise the state societies. Then you have regions, example Southeastern Region is Alabama, Florida, Georgia, NC and SC. Then you have national level. My mom was a member of Daughter's of the American Revolution and this is how I became involved in CAR.

During the summer the national board travels to the 9 different regions. They put on skits and introduce the national programs for the year to the members. It is an absolute blast to serve on National Board! You age out on your 22nd birthday. Usually National Board members are 15 (sometimes younger) to 21.

The next summer I travelled on tour again. Except it wasn't the same. I was rooming with different girls. There was the night I was talked about, because they thought I was asleep. It ended my desire to travel on tour any longer. I never confronted anyone I just let it go and moved on.

In college I lived with Tiffany from 2nd semester (January 99) of sophomore year until August 01 when I graduated. She and I worked together, lived together and hung out together. By the time I left the apartment my goodbye was a note on the whiteboard. It took several years before we spoke to each other again. Obviously we've patched up our friendship. It took me writing a letter and dealing with some things in order for me to appreciate her. I was a pretty awful roommate.

Patrice and I have had our share of knock down drag out disagreements. Yet through it all we've managed to work it out. Before her wedding I almost wasn't in it. I was hurting and jealous and a rift formed between us. Fortunately we had a sit down come to Jesus meeting in Starbucks and kissed and made up. I stood behind her on the day she got married, and I wouldn't have wanted to have been anywhere else.

My friend Margs and I, we've only had 1 time where we weren't speaking, it was in college. When we made up we promised we would never do that again.

Dr. Margaret and I didn't speak for a little while after I moved out of the apartment but we made ammends fairly quickly.

All these examples to say that when it really matters I do acknowledge my part and I do ask forgiveness.

In dating, I kicked them out of my life instead of dealing with them. I tried to kick Mr. Clean to the curb, but he proposed and we got married. So all the time I could have been working on how to deal with conflict in relationship I was just moving on to the next guy... And that brings me to here.

I'm learning. I still don't like conflict. I'm also not a doormat. This means that I have to deal with things when they happen. I may have to take a step back, and think, but I will eventually confront whatever it is.

The biggest red flag waved in front of me is telling me what I'm thinking or feeling. This is not OK with me. My mom tends to do it to me too. Drives me BATTY!!!! In a very nice way today I have addressed this with my husband. I have requested that when we are having a conversation that my thoughts and feelings not be told to me. Even if he thinks he knows, he doesn't need to tell me.

I'm a work in progress.