I Wish I Hadn’t Said That

I had a great visit with my sister-in-law and her two daughters today. The mood was light, and the banter was enjoyable. They are so funny, so we laughed a lot, and we were having a great time—until I said something really stupid. It was one of those things that if I had tried to back track and fix it in the moment, I probably would have made it feel even more awkward. So, I just let it go and we moved on to continue enjoying one another’s company as though nothing was amiss (with my feet hanging out of my mouth). The niece that my thoughtless comment was aimed at didn’t show any outward signs of being offended and I hope she wasn’t, because no offense was intended. But I still feel bad about it anyway.

I’m pretty sure I’m not the only person in the world who struggles with…I don’t even know what to call it. It probably has a clinical name, but I don’t know what it is. It’s the condition of over thinking, replaying, and regretting my conversations and /or actions following social interactions. I can beat myself up for quite a while about the simplest things because I’m afraid that someone might have misunderstood my meaning by what I said. (Maybe it’s called foot in mouth disease.) My faux pas can fester in me until I finally call or go talk to the person I’m afraid has been offended or hurt by what I said, only to find that, more often than not, they have forgotten whatever I said, or never thought anything about it in the first place.

I have not always been a socially insecure person, and I have long adhered to the belief that taking offense lies at the feet of the one who chooses to take offense rather than the one who has caused the offense. I feel that, in general, people don’t go around purposely trying to offend or hurt others. Some may not care if they offend others, especially if they are strongly opinionated or “pig-headed”, but I would venture to say that they are the exception rather than the rule. But I just want to make sure that people know that I don’t mean to seem mean when I say things that may sound mean even though I didn’t mean to say what I said or in the way it could have been taken. In other words, I never intend to offend even though I may not be good at saying things in the best right way.

I am much better at letting go of offenses aimed at me because of this belief than I am at forgiving myself for my blunders that could be the cause of other people feeling hurt or attacked. Years ago, when I was pregnant with one of my babies, I attended a Relief Society dinner at the end of a busy, run around day. I hadn’t had time to eat much so I was starving. I sat at a table with several sweet ladies who I loved and admired and were my friends, but the table wasn’t completely full, there was one empty chair next to me. At each place setting there was a salad, a roll, and a dessert. So, I ate my salad, and then after asking if anyone else wanted the extra salad sitting in front of the empty chair and no one did, I ate that one too. Bowls of soup were then brought to the table and after finishing mine, seconds were offered, and I graciously accepted, eating both my roll and the missing neighbor’s as well. I of course explained to the ladies why I was so hungry and eating doubles of everything so that they didn’t think that I was being a pig, but I felt a little sheepish in eating so much. Of course, following the meal, I also ate both desserts.

The next morning, I stopped by the house of one of the ladies to pick up her daughter to take her, along with my son, and some other children to preschool. During the drive, this darling little girl was telling us what I can only imagine she had overheard her mother telling someone else. She said, in total shock and disgust, “my mom said that last night at Relief Society someone ate two of everything”. I was quite shocked myself that I had been talked about, but I calmly blurted out to the kids that I was the one who had done that. As the day wore on, I found myself almost tempted to be offended until I thought about the conversation around the table the night before. Two of the sisters, this mom being one of them, had been talking about exercise and diets and how difficult it is to be in shape or to get to and maintain their desired weight. These sweet ladies were not overweight by any means, and I thought they looked great just the way they were. But obviously, they didn’t feel the same. I, on the other hand, had never had to worry about my weight. I could eat anything, and as much as I wanted without adverse effects, and they had mentioned that they envied me. Even in my pregnancies I had never gained more than twenty pounds. I knew that I was blessed in this way, but I also knew that it could catch up with me someday—which it certainly has. So, keeping the parts and pieces of the situation in context, it wasn’t hard to just let it go without taking offense. Unintentionally giving offense, or unnecessarily taking offense carry a hard to shed, extra weight. A weight that I know I’d like to keep off.