(That is what the picture, illustrated by Ms. Lexi Hurst, says. The picture is an image of Pac-Man eating not the ghosts, but small children.) But it represents sage advice I received from a friend this week. Let me explain lest you start to wonder about me…or report me to the authorities. While in Guatemala a couple of weeks ago, I learned that some of the villagers were hesitant to speak with us or interact with us because a rumor had spread that we “gringoes” were there to eat their children. While wholly untrue, I can understand how villagers would be terrified to come outside if they believed this to be a fact. It’s not for me to demean their belief, no matter how irrational. The only thing I could do was to show them through my actions that I did not intend to eat their children. (However, while there, my husband and I acted out many stories, including Little Red Riding Hood, The Three Little Pigs, etc…Needless to say, we stayed away from Hansel and Gretel.)

But why did a friend, two weeks later, need to remind me not to eat small children? I can promise you that he had no concerns about my dietary needs. No, I was in the midst of sharing some deep pain I was feeling, and the moment was heavy and slightly depressing. And just when I thought I was going to cry, he said, “Just don’t eat the children.” I didn’t want to laugh! I wanted to wallow, but it was much needed relief from the feeling of being completely overwhelmed by hurt. (It was similar to the scene at the end of Steeling Magnolias. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, you should go watch it. It’s great.)

I have written several posts in the past regarding my challenges with developing and maintaining meaningful relationships with people, especially women. They always seem to end in hurt and so I had gotten pretty good at avoiding them altogether-anything to avoid the disappointment and pain, but that goes against everything I taught in leadership development workshops. I came to understand that relationships were incredibly messy, but incredibly worth it.

But when I received news from a friend that she no longer wanted to associate with me on a personal or professional basis with no acknowledgement of what I had done to damage the trust and relationship, I felt as though my arm had been cut off. The tangible pain was swift and visceral, and I was completely overwhelmed. My immediate thought was to respond with stoicism and write off all current and future relationships. But I know I’ve changed, and I didn’t want to run away from the hurt or from people. In the past, I think I would have responded with rage and defensiveness and to try to argue for all the ways in which I was wronged by this situation.

Then humility kicked in, and I thought about the villagers in Guatemala who held on to a belief that I was there to eat their children. Just because I didn’t agree with their assessment didn’t make their feelings any less valid. I also know that as a human being on this earth, I have a great capacity to hurt others knowingly and unknowingly so it’s very possible that I grieved my friend. Relationships are wrought with so much potential for joy and grief. I am recognizing that it’s okay to feel sadness for the loss of a friendship. It may never be repaired and perhaps it was for a season of life. But I am not going to run away from life and people. I don’t want to model that for Lexi.

I appreciate my friends who provided much needed comfort and laughter in the midst of this. I invited their children over for a play date and told them that I wanted to cook and bake with them. And was admonished again not to “eat the children!” Hahaha…I love it when things come full circle in a conversation.

How do you normally respond to the hurt from relationships?