Feelings

 A comment from John's post yesterday. Funny men have feelings. 

Anonymous1:50 pm

One of the things I admire about you is that you never "go offline" when the posts or comments get tough!

Reading through his 125 comments to date, (some are supportive), confirms to me that I don't need people to pile onto my blog pulling my life apart. I don't want to deal with all the negativity, which some people seem to thrive on. 'Offline' suits me, dear Anonymous. 

John quotes that he doesn't want abusive comments from arseholes, but he still gets them. Some people say that they are just different opinions, but there are times when it's best to keep your opinions to yourself. Those that don't have blogs would do well to start one, then they can broadcast their different opinions to the whole world. 

I think that John's post is all about self reflection. He has said that as part of his course he has to go through the counselling process himself. His post partly fulfills that obligation. 

I will add my hurt feelings story here. 

I have always hated the fact that I couldn't see very well, first discovered when I was a child and couldn't see the hymn sheet hanging on the wall at the front of the class. My mother took me for an eye test, and National Health specs were issued. Oh how I hated wearing them, and tried many times to manage without. 

As a teenager, trying to look pretty and fashionable, always brought me to tears as I looked in the mirror. Those awful glasses got in the way. I felt inferior, that I wasn't as good as everyone else. 

My brother lost his temper with me one day as I was bemoaning the fact that I was ugly. He said, and I quote, 'You look bloody awful, why don't you do something about yourself and get some contact lenses'. It hurt to hear that, but it planted a seed. Could I do that, can I afford it. 

I went to the optician and had a trial, first with hard lenses because they were cheaper, then soft ones. I felt I could get along with them so decided to give it a try. 

They gave me the confidence that I needed. My brother was right, it was the kick up the arse that I needed. I never looked back. My confidence soared, it was like I had been reborn. Now I was the same as everyone else, I didn't have to look through bottom bottoms any longer. Now I was normal, now I could see. 

I wore them for many years, but eventually, as it happens with those of a certain age, I needed reading glasses for the small print. It seemed daft to carry glasses around with me and to keep getting them out of my bag when I needed to look at something close. By then I had come to terms with the fact I couldn't see without glasses, so I changed the contacts to varifocal specs. 

Must dash. Got to get off to Crafty Club. Toodle pip.   ilona