And pity, like a naked new-born babe...

Yesterday evening, G and I were at the museum for a talk about Taiwan, and afterwards, as we stood around admiring the view from the panoramic, south-facing windows, the talk turned to my own family history, and my estrangement from my father, and his estrangement from his own parents, and the various sorts of lively Things That Occurred in my family life in the wake of my parents' failed attempt to reconcile in Taiwan. As I cheerfully prattled on, I didn't register G's increasingly aghast look. When I turned to face him, his eyes filled with sympathy and kindness. "I'm so sorry," he said. "That sounds like a rough thing to have gone through."

I bristled. Haughtily marched off to the restroom to regather my thoughts, then returned and abruptly brought up another subject.

When we got home, I picked a fight over several other irrelevant things--something he'd done a week prior that I hadn't liked, and for which he'd already profusely apologized; then an offhand comment that he made that I twisted to view as offensively as possible.

I realize that I don't take sympathy or pity well.

Here's the thing about sympathy. I can only think of two basic ways to respond, and neither seems quite right. One can say, "Ah, thank you for your kindness, but it really doesn't bother me." That has the advantage of cutting the topic short, but it might not be true. It's a great technique for strangers or acquaintances, but when it's a partner or a friend who deeply cares about you, it doesn't feel good to lie. And it doesn't do anything to promote the relationship or to accept the proffered affection.

The other option is that one can say, "Yup. Indeed. It does suck." That has the advantage of truth, but it teeters dangerously close to opening the way for drama, tears, and self-pity, none of which interests me.

So I don't know what the answer is. I do know that Miss Manners- and Dear Abby- type folks say that when sympathy is offered at a funeral, for example, the only proper response is a "thank you," no matter what other emotions you may be feeling at the time. The idea is, the giver of sympathy means well. And it's only because they care about you, that they feel sympathy at all. So you should take it as a kindness, whether or not you like, want, or need it.

The only problem with this model of behavior is that, in such situations, you are the one who is in pain, but it's others who are made to feel better when you graciously accept sympathy. I find it bewildering that in your time of pain, you have the additional job of making others feel better about you. And yet, there seems to be no way around it. They feel inadequate, and the onus is on you to make them feel better. And, the cherry on top is that this whole mess of awkwardness stems from their love and absolute good intentions for you!

I can't wrap my mind around it. But clearly, stamping and hrrmphing about like an angry rabbit is not the answer.


And after a mostly sleepless night and then a run in the cool morning rain, I more deeply appreciate G's love and mental fortitude.

And I shall continue to work on letting go of the past. Why be resentful of things that happened decades ago, when fate has smiled so kindly on me in the years since?