A Look Inside My Head

Being Nice

   I let a woman in front of me into a busy lane of traffic today. She was trying to take a right out of the gas station, and nobody was letting her. I waved her in and gave a friendly wave as she pulled in front of me. She did not wave back. At first, I thought, "Wow, no wave back? Really?" And then I thought,"How entitled am I to expect a wave back, and immediately judge someone for not waving?" And then, because my brain was on a roll, I dove much deeper into the subject of being nice.
   What if she was having a bad day? What if she was really anxious about pulling in front of me and didn't have the means to even be thinking about waving back? What if she forgot and felt bad about not waving back? What if she hasn't been shown enough kindness in the world to know how to show it back?
   I think I should be kind with no expectations. Not in a negative way, just because. I think everyone who's lived long enough knows that a lot of people are cruel. But a lot of them aren't, too.
   There was a girl named River that I saw at a gas station. She looked a little down on her luck, so I asked her if she wanted to come inside with me and grab some snacks. She grabbed some chips, granola bars, and very timidly asked me if she could grab a beer. I said "yeah dude, of course. Grab whatever you want." It's not my place to care what she gets. I offered to get whatever she needed, and it sounded like she needed a beer. After we got rung up, I went back outside with her and asked how she was doing. She started crying and told me she missed her kids. She missed her family. That being out there was fucking hard, and she wanted to get back on her feet. She pointed to the rehab across the street, and said that she wanted to go there to get her life together. I asked her if she wanted a hug, and she hugged me like she needed someone to help squeeze the broken pieces back together. She thanked me and said nobody had been this nice to her. I hugged her again and told her that I believed in her. Then I got in my car and went my own way. I wish I would have walked with her to rehab that day. I really hope she went, and I hope she got to see her kids and family again. Its been over a year since that happened, and I still think about River. I'm not sure why I included this story, but I think it's important to know there's a lot of Rivers out there. And maybe they need a hug.
   I've seen bad people do good things, and good people do bad. I've seen genuinely evil people, and been directly affected by them. I've had people save my life, and people drive me to wanting to kill myself. I've done bad things to people, but I try to do good. I've apologized, and I've let pride get the best of me. I don't think the majority of "bad" people are genuinely bad. I think they're stuck in a cycle, and some part of them is hurt. Sometimes, if you show someone enough good, it starts to help empty out the hurt. Sometimes, I think the hurt is too comfortable to let go of.
   I think it's harder to be nice. There's a vulnerability, and you have to let go of the fear of rejection. There's a delicate balance between being kind, and letting people take advantage of you. You have to walk the line carefully. Some people don't want others to be nice. Some people want to feed on the hurt and believe that the world is cruel. A lot of it is cruel. But there are still people that care. There are still people that would fill up your gas tank if you were out of money for the week. Take you to the hospital if they saw you bleeding. I was angry and bitter for so long that I hated those people. Me? I don't need your help. I don't want your kindness. I don't want you to ask how I'm doing. But I remembered them, later. Then I grew. I realized the anger, the hurt, and the bitterness was poison. It was like believing there was no sun just because the clouds were covering it. It took away all of the happiness, because the hurt was comfortable. It wasn't vulnerable. I was protected by my iron fortress. Nobody could hurt me because I was already hurting myself. But being happy? Being nice? That's freedom. It's saying, "Here's my heart. I don't care if you break it, because I have the strength to put it back together myself." I want to see the sun. The iron fort is miserable.
   So yeah, sometimes they don't wave back. And that's okay, because that's not the point. That's just my take. I'm not here to tell anybody what to do.