I have always considered myself as an open person. No one could ever say that I was an "over-sharer" but ask me a question, any question, and I will tell you an answer or tell you that I will not be answering that question. This particular trait has gotten me in trouble on more than one occasion. I learned early in my life that people often ask questions that they do not really want someone to answer, especially not truthfully. So now I ask, when I sense that someone might be asking me one of these questions, if it is a question that they really want an answer to. Some have responded yes, to mixed results. Most change the subject or continue their musings without giving me time to answer.
For myself, I rarely ask anyone a question or for someone's opinion of me because I am not sure that I would want to hear what would be said to me. I have never thought about this particular quirk of mine. I figured that it was a quality that made others like me (whether or not I liked them in return). It has been suggested to me that it might be that I don't trust people. Now, to be clear, there are a great many people on this planet that cannot be trusted. Even before these people have demonstrated, much to our own detriment, that they are not to be trusted, there are many others that history and experience has taught us to regard with a healthy dose of mistrust, at least until they prove themselves to be trustworthy. Such people might include, politicians, lawyers, anyone from the IRS, people who laugh when no one told a joke, the man (or not to be labeled as sexiest, the woman) who stairs at you with a stony expression the whole bus ride, or anyone who is always so happy and optimistic that Prozac is depressed around them. Personally, I find anyone who does not appreciate a certain amount of dark morbid humour to be untrustworthy.
My own particular list of people that I trust (and when I say trust I mean capital "T" trust, not the people I trust to spread a rumour, or fetch something for me) is fairly small. This has served me well, for the most part, in my life. I am seldom surprised by the lowdown dirty things people do me or others. Recently, however, I have considered the possibility that my lack of, at least an initial level of, trust might not allow me to grow in the ways that I hope to.
Day after tomorrow is Sunday. The day that, in addition to reflect on the covenants I have made and my worship of my Heavenly Father, I go to church. An activity that usually provides ample opportunity to practice my mistrust on the shifty young church goers. This week, however, I will attempt to not immediately story these people as worthy of such feelings, but will try to reserve judgment until such time as they show who they really are through word or deed. I cannot promise anything. It is clear that I have studied and watched far too many mysteries and crime dramas that only provide justification for my wary nature. But, who knows... I may just surprise myself.
For myself, I rarely ask anyone a question or for someone's opinion of me because I am not sure that I would want to hear what would be said to me. I have never thought about this particular quirk of mine. I figured that it was a quality that made others like me (whether or not I liked them in return). It has been suggested to me that it might be that I don't trust people. Now, to be clear, there are a great many people on this planet that cannot be trusted. Even before these people have demonstrated, much to our own detriment, that they are not to be trusted, there are many others that history and experience has taught us to regard with a healthy dose of mistrust, at least until they prove themselves to be trustworthy. Such people might include, politicians, lawyers, anyone from the IRS, people who laugh when no one told a joke, the man (or not to be labeled as sexiest, the woman) who stairs at you with a stony expression the whole bus ride, or anyone who is always so happy and optimistic that Prozac is depressed around them. Personally, I find anyone who does not appreciate a certain amount of dark morbid humour to be untrustworthy.
My own particular list of people that I trust (and when I say trust I mean capital "T" trust, not the people I trust to spread a rumour, or fetch something for me) is fairly small. This has served me well, for the most part, in my life. I am seldom surprised by the lowdown dirty things people do me or others. Recently, however, I have considered the possibility that my lack of, at least an initial level of, trust might not allow me to grow in the ways that I hope to.
Day after tomorrow is Sunday. The day that, in addition to reflect on the covenants I have made and my worship of my Heavenly Father, I go to church. An activity that usually provides ample opportunity to practice my mistrust on the shifty young church goers. This week, however, I will attempt to not immediately story these people as worthy of such feelings, but will try to reserve judgment until such time as they show who they really are through word or deed. I cannot promise anything. It is clear that I have studied and watched far too many mysteries and crime dramas that only provide justification for my wary nature. But, who knows... I may just surprise myself.
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