Those who matter

Be who you are and say what you feel, because "Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."

This quote is incorrectly attributed to Dr. Seuss. The portion in quotation marks was spoken by Bernard Mannes Baruch (presidential advisor to Wilson and Roosevelt) regarding whether he wanted any special seating arrangements at a banquet.

In my previous post, I opened myself up to scrutiny by those of you who still read my blog... and I will admit that when I clicked "publish" ... it was with fear and trembling, even dread of being judged - much more so when I submitted it to the one who issued the challenge about which I spoke, since I have 15 followers and she has over 300. (Gulp.) 

I will also admit that I care - even after three and a half years of recovery from such things - far too much about what people think of me. Being human, I like to be liked.  I am (just like the rest of the world) hard-wired for connection. As much rejection and abandonment as I have known in my life, it still hurts to be excluded, ignored, or passed over - for whatever reason.  

But it's slowly dawning on me, this radical truth of "those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter."  Married with the idea that "friends are God's way of apologizing to you for your family," I'm beginning to see that it's the heart connections that matter - whether those are blood ties or not.  That the support and encouragement of true friends ... trumps the pettiness and poison of those other toxic relationships, whether they are with family or not.  Every time.  I have a few such golden friends.  I value them ... I treasure them more than I can begin to express. And I can express a LOT.  ;)

As I was saying, when I submitted that blog post to my fellow-blogger for inclusion on her site ... it was with much fear and trembling.  I felt exposed, raw, vulnerable to attack. I think I even said to myself, "NOW what have I done?"  

Yet I was curious (morbidly or not) to know what my fellow-blogger thought.  I kept watching my inbox.

Nothing came.

HERE is a great article on hugging!

A few hours later, I once again checked my inbox.  Nothing was in there, but there was something sitting in my Spam folder.  "I wonder..." I said, for sometimes my email server mistakes real communication for spam.  

Sure enough, there it was, an email from Ellie.  And in the first two sentences, I was brimming with tears, which gradually turned to sobbing in gratitude and love by the end.  I won't tell you exactly what she told me -  but suffice to say that it started with a desire to hug me - and contained some of the most encouraging and uplifting affirmations I have heard in a very long time.  

I've already lost count of the number of times I've gone back to that email to read those incredible, supportive words, to feel that warm blanket of acceptance and kindness and trustworthiness enfolding me.  Ellie reached out to me across the miles, even though we've never met in person, to remind me of what is important -- and of what isn't. 

Her words made (and make) me feel ... heard.  Understood.  Even important, and not in an arrogant kind of way, but in the way every human being needs to feel valued.  Worthy.  Safe.  They gave me the courage to lean into, to make peace with, even to embrace, the truth of my birth family's rejection of me.  They gave me access to the Strength to do what I need to do - whatever that is - to accept "what is" ... and to move on.  They gave me enough wisdom to discern who are "those who matter" and who are "those who mind" - and enough security and whole-heartedness to embrace the former and to walk away from the latter.  As difficult as that is (and will be) it is also quite liberating.

I don't have to prove anything to anyone.  
I don't have to justify anything to anyone.  

I just need to look after what (and who) matters ... and leave the rest alone, because it's out of my hands.  If it was ever there in the first place, that is.