Cover Up
Feroshia R.J. Knight, MA, PCC
Shana and I used to be besties until she began seeing Harry, whom I guessed had skipped the class on sharing in kindergarten.
"He just loves me so much," Shana said after they moved in together, "that he hates us being apart." This, to explain why he prevented her from going anywhere except to work without him. But since Harry never left the couch, Shana became isolated.
So I was surprised when she called me to come over recently. Harry had left town for the week after informing her that he'd quit his third job in a year. He'd decided the beach was the perfect place to get a break from all her complaining, filled up a full-sized ice chest with beer to console himself, and set out for sandier shores. Shana had hoped I'd come over and lighten things up, but instead I made her cry.
I didn't mean to. I had to be a real friend, not someone who told her what she wanted to hear; though I did manage to find my inner diplomat. I reminded her about the dream she once aspired to, the dream of becoming an LVN. She had put that dream on hold so she could work two jobs to support Harry, who spent most of his time on the sofa with a remote in one hand, a "cold one" in the other, and a chip on both shoulders.
"He has the worst luck with jobs," Shana lamented, as we sat on her couch. "He always gets the crazy supervisors who throw temper tantrums when someone smarter than they are comes to work for them. Like Harry."
"Is that what Harry told you?" I asked cautiously.
Shana shrugged and fidgeted with her fingers. "Harry says his managers feel threatened by him because they know he could do their jobs blindfolded. But he doesn't like to brag."
"What do you think?" I asked.
Shana reflected on that with a heavy sigh and a grimace. "Well, to be honest—"
Our conversation was interrupted by the doorbell. She hopped up to answer it and returned with a brown wicker basket filled with two dozen red roses. The bouquet was so big, I couldn't see her face. Then she tipped her head, revealing wide eyes and a silly grin.
"From Harry?" I said, incredulously.
She set the flowers on the coffee table and stood back to admire them. A pink rash spread up her neck, her mouth twitched as she contained some apparent giddiness, and her shoulders hiked up around her ears. My sullen friend had transformed, staring at the surprise delivery like it was a newborn baby dropped on her doorstep: fascinating and wonderful, but completely beyond her realm of experience.
Since Shana had lost her big-people words, I snatched the card from the bouquet and read it aloud. "To the sweetest woman I know. I enjoyed our lunch together yesterday—a lot. I hope you'll say yes to dinner with me Saturday at Vinny's on the Lake. XO, Adam."
Shana shrugged and giggled, her eyes alight. "Should I say yes?"
"I have no idea who Adam is," I said, "but given the look on your face, and considering that your alternative is likely flirting far out of his league while digging sand fleas from his shorts and imagining you're missing his caveman grunts, I'd say oh yeah."
She shielded her face and peeked at me between her fingers. "I can't. Can I? I shouldn't. Should I? Harry is . . . Harry is . . ."
"Let me help you," I said. "Harry is a chronically unemployed freeloader, who's gone on vacation without you as punishment for demanding that he do more than unclog the toilets, mow the lawn, and say I love you in one elongated belch."
"Actually, I unclog the toilets and mow the lawn."
I laid a hand on her shoulder. "Shana, you deserve a man who's as excited about you as Adam seems to be."
Shana slumped onto the couch and began to cry. In that moment, she accepted that she was with the wrong man. Her gut—along with all her friends and family—had been screaming how wrong Harry was, but Shana hadn't wanted to face it. She'd thought it was easier to stay than voice the hardest word: goodbye. Sometimes, no matter how hard it is to accept the truth, the courage you gather to face that truth sets you on the path to healthy self-esteem, personal growth, and the ability to move yourself into a better future.
Shana and I made a pact. I promised to tell the truth as I saw it, and she promised to be a truth acceptor—a person who stops to listen to her heart, brain, and gut and takes positive action accordingly.
When Harry returned from his beach vacay, Shana had his bags packed and placed conveniently out by the curb.
Life Happens!
Humorous articles to share!
Download and share with your friends!
- Getting Unstuck!
Learn 3 simple choices that you can make right now and step into the life your want.
[read more]
- Open to Possibilities...
Recognize the magic of your mindset and be a tornado!
[read more]
- When to Let Go...
Relation advice for anyone struggling to release what is no longer working...
[read more]
- Hazards of Jealousy
Need we say anything else?
[read more]
- Boundaries
How to manage your life, others - the easy way!
[read more]
- Life's Little Lies
One thing does indeed lead to another and the lessons learned.
[read more]
- To Tell the Truth...
How to speak up for what you want, before someone beats you to it.
[read more]
- Reality Checks...
How to manage those perceptual moments of confusion.
[read more]
- Cover Up...
What to do when you know it's over - or perhaps what not to do...
[read more]
- Wild Adventures...
How to have a good time when others simply can not.
[read more]
- Mastering Food...
How to manage those undying habits related to eating in the workplace.
[read more]
- Too Sexy...
Getting caught not being you!
[read more]