Time to Let Myself Out of the Prison of Self-Protection

I missed the 55th high school reunion last month. I paid the money to attend, and at the last moment, I used having a small cold to change my mind. I had not seen most of the 511 other alumni for the whole 55 years. I was determined to put my fears of what might happen aside and try to enjoy myself for two days.

I was on I was on the last two doses of antibiotics, so I wasn’t still contagious. I panicked and sent an email to the woman who was in charge to say that I would not be attending because I was on antibiotics. The truth was that I worried about being bullied by the same people who were comfortable in high school with calling me names and making jokes about my looks. I reasoned that just because they were 55 years older didn’t mean that they would be any nicer. I wasn’t friends with anyone in my class, so I thought that when someone asked who I was, someone would answer that I was the girl they used to call Little Monster.

I wanted to protect myself from even the possibility that the heinous moniker would be spoken. I knew that it would hurt me deeply. I didn’t think the Reverend Doctor in from of my name would protect me from the insensitivity and inhumanity of someone who might have too much to drink and still wanted to be funny at someone else’s expense: mine.

I have spent a lot of my life not risking making friends who might abuse my trust. I found that isolation in my home was the safest place for me . Yes, I worked for over 40 years and attended churches throughout my adulthood, but when work or services ended, I returned to the quiet and isolation that I believed would keep me safe from ugly people.

Today, as I realized that I don’t have any women friends for lunches and movies, it occurred to me that I made my own prison of self-protection, not realizing that I gave myself a life sentence. Part of the reason was trying to avoid violence in my life, whether physical, spiritual, or verbal. But, at age 73, I can still change. We don’t stop growing until we die. I can liberate myself , similar to getting out of jail early for good behavior. I started last year inviting a couple of ladies to lunches. I just have to return to it. They must wonder what happened to me! It’s past time to be free!