A world renowned theologian once wrote – In everyone’s life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit.
I’m sure from time to time we passengers on this here LiFeTrain don’t often think about the effect that our words have upon others. Our words do have power and everything that we say has a positive or negative impact on others around us.
There is an old story that is told about an army* of frogs that went leaping through the forest one day when two of the frogs suddenly fell into a deep pit. All of the other frogs gathered around the hole to look down on their two fallen comrades. They all began to sadly shake their heads and to croak out dismal warnings. “It’s too deep!” croaked one frog. Another croaked that there was no way that they would ever be able to get out of that pitalive.
The two fallen frogs began to continuously jump as they tried to get out of the pit, but the frogs that were watching kept croaking louder at them that they might as well stop because they were as good as dead and just wasting their time. One of the two frogs finally gave up and heeded the pessimistic advice of the frogs at the top. He quit jumping and literally “croaked” and died.
The other frog just kept right on jumping and leaping harder than ever in spite of all the loud croaks of disapproval from the frogs that were watching around the top of the 
hole. They kept croaking shouts at him to quit jumping and save himself from all the pain and suffering he was incurring as he leaped and fell back down to the bottom of the pit over and over again.
Finally, he leaped even harder than ever and to the surprise of all the other frogs he jumped right out of the deep pit. The other frogs asked him, “Why did you keep leaping even though we yelled and croaked at you to stop?” It was then that the frog explained to them that he was deaf and he had thought they were cheering for him and yelling words of encouragement to him the entire time!
A little encouragement can go a long way and as Babe Ruth once said, “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.”
So my fellow passengers, I’m sure I am not telling you anything you don’t know, but let me remind you anyway, our words do have the power to hurt or to heal. What kind of frog are you? Are you a croaker or a leaper?
All Aboard, The LiFeTrain! ….AND KEEP ON!!!
As I grow older, I pay less attention to what men say. I just watch what they do. Andrew Carnegie
When deeds speak, words are nothing. African Proverb.
I talked to my ex today. It’s been sixteen months since we ended. We had a long honest conversation. The fact that we didn’t make it still hurts.
I’ve always felt like I lost a good man, and I did. He was by no means perfect. None of us are.
We talked about why he left. He said it was partially me and partially him. (I hope in ‘menspeak’ that doesn’t really mean he feels it was all ME) Well….when two people are in a relationship, that seems pretty logical.
Long story short, in my opinion he just got tired of doing the work of trying to maintain a relationship with me.
He used the words “emotional mess” to describe me. Not a pretty description. Words can indeed be hurtful, even when we don’t intend them to be. I realize I can be extremely emotional. He always had a hard time dealing with that part of me. But, I thought he had long ago begun to understand that I was one of those women whose tears helped to express darn near every emotion.
I feel like I am back at step one. So, I hopped on the train. I haven’t commented in quite some time. But, the best thing about this leg of the journey are the words of encouragement that can always be found here.
I tell my children not to let anyone outside of themselves define them. I will take my own advice in this instance. He knew that I never expected him to resolve my issues, But I know now that he must have felt ‘dumped on.’ He also admitted that he didn’t know how to communicate what he was feeling. We had come such a long way in his willingess to be open and communicative.
Guess we hadn’t come quite far enough. I am going to try my gosh darndest not to dwell on his description of me. I will instead focus on the fact that he was finally able to speak his truth to me.
Maybe he did learn a little something from me after all.
“I realize I can be extremely emotional. He always had a hard time dealing with that part of me.”
“I never expected him to resolve my issues, But I know now that he must have felt ‘dumped on.’ He also admitted that he didn’t know how to communicate what he was feeling.”
I’ve been doing a tiny bit of obsessing. But, this is more of what I’ve been thinking:
When women discuss their problems or issues with the men in their lives, many of those men believe that their women want them to resolve those problems.
I simply needed to be heard, to be understood. I just needed him to tell me that no matter what the outcome, he would be here supporting my decisions. I don’t believe that most men understand what it means to be emotionally supportive.
He viewed me as “an emotional mess.” But, emotions are felt as well as displayed. He was not without emotion, even if the degree to which he displayed his was much less than mine, he was apparently dealing with a myriad of emotions regarding our relationship. Does that make him any less culpable for how they affected me?
His feelings of doubt, uncertainty, and frustration would never have allowed him to resort to tears; he’s a man! But, they did contribute to his lack of faith in our relationship.
This is the same man who would lecture me if I didn’t ask for help. He also admitted that he felt he couldn’t tell me how my displays of emotion affected him, because he thought I would hold everything in, and it wouldn’t be good for me.
Why is it so difficult for a man to find the proper words with which to express his doubts and fears?
Tammy! Girl where you been? Come on back here in the caboose. Me and Chuckie ain’t doin’ nothing but sitting back here throwing popcorn at each other. I made some potato salad but Chuckie ate the whole bowl and didn’t leave nothin’ but a corner. Now he has indigestion but I don’t feel sorry for him.
Now with this whole thing of having conversations with the ex, let me start by saying that I don’t like nobody messin’ with my sorors, and I don’t appreciate what he said. I have always maintained that he does not deserve a piece of your soul and shouldn’t be running off with it. Your soul belongs to God.
With that said, I am glad that you called and talked to him. Yes, glad. You know why? I’m glad because you needed to hear that. You did not need to hear it because it’s true, but because it gave you the opportunity to see the TRUTH about HIM, not you… and only the truth sets us free. Nothing that he said about you was true, but the truth about HIM is that he is a liar.
“Emotional mess” my foot. The TRUTH is that dude is not man enough to deal with a woman who is intelligent and articulate enough to express her feelings without drinking, partying, overspending, gambling, and forming other compulsive addictions to cover up feelings and emotions.
He is not man enough to deal with a multifaceted, intelligent, educated black woman who is able to wind down, be vulnerable, and morph into something other than an iron clad, money making, career chasing, pump and suit wearing zombie.
He is not man enough to deal with a commitment, handle a strong woman, and take the lead when it was warranted. You have GOT to find you somebody better.
I could see if you were not reciprocating emotional support, but you gave it to him too so he had no reason to complain.
Gimme dat cell phone. Imma call him. He’s got one time to haul off and say “Emotional mess” to me. I’ve got a whole page full of “Yo’ mama is so fat” insults waiting for him with his stupid self.. Da Scoundrel don’t play that.
“This is the same man who would lecture me if I didn’t ask for help. He also admitted that he felt he couldn’t tell me how my displays of emotion affected him, because he thought I would hold everything in, and it wouldn’t be good for me.”
^^
Now see.. dude ain’t doing nothing right there but finding excuses to weasel out of a commitment, talking out of both sides of his mouth. One day you’re not emotional enough, the next day you’re too emotional. Excuses, excuses. Tell dude to man up and learn how to deal with a real woman, and tell him Da Scoundrel said so.
Gimme dat cell phone…
Hey Soror!
Thanks for those encouraging words. Its the story of my life. Every time I look around the folks who really have my back are my soror sister friends.
Well…you’re right. He couldn’t handle me as a whole person, a real woman. My usedta be man was flawed in many ways. And yes, I am multifaceted, but flawed as well. (I suspect I have a few too many pairs of shoes. Gotta get that shoe monkey off my back!)
One day soon my brain and my emotions will find one accord and accept the fact that he did what I couldn’t do, he walked away.
… And even if you were an ‘emotional mess’, so what? There are about 5 days out of every month that this here scoundrel is a complete ‘emotional mess’ and nobody better not even look at me wrong. I’ll either slap you with my flyswatter, get teared up and tell you my life story, or sit in a corner with ice cream and lament about who died on a soap opera. It’s called PMS.
Most men deal with PMS by going to a sports bar, having a couple of beers, watching the game, going to the gym, hanging with the boys, and staying out of their woman’s way. A simple “You’re trippin’” is sufficient. Real men don’t get bent out of shape about it and just walking out of the relationship altogether just seems a little more on the excuse making side.
Be glad that this dude left. He didn’t deserve you anyway.
The Story of a Frog in a Milk-Pail
A frog was hopping around a farmyard, when it decided to investigate the barn. Being somewhat careless, and maybe a little too curious, he ended up falling into a pail half-filled with fresh milk.
As he swam about attempting to reach the top of the pail, he found that the sides of the pail were too high and steep to reach.
He tried to stretch his back legs to push off the bottom of the pail but found it too deep.
But this frog was determined not to give up, and he continued to struggle.
He kicked and squirmed and kicked and squirmed, until at last, all his churning about in the milk had turned the milk into a big hunk of butter.
The butter was now solid enough for him to climb onto and get out of the pail!
“Never Give Up!”