Marshmallow Life.

I was telling my mom, and a good friend, that I identify mostly as a marshmallow in a world filled with forks. My dear friend advised that she too is marshmallow status (hence our kinship) and mom, in true mom fashion, advised that the Yiddish word for marshmallow is shney-kishele, which translates to tiny little snow pillows. I’ll tell you that I’ve never felt more seen than I was in those moments.

So, the world I live in is seemingly filled with forks or other sharp implements, and I am, indeed, a tiny little snow pillow. Easily wounded and marred and mushed. I do have some marshmallow companionship, which makes the journey easier to bear and gives me a soft and sensitive shoulder to cry on. And yet, marshmallow I am.

I’m well aware of my sensitivity, but in this case, the thought bubbled to the surface after an unpleasant interaction with a friend. I’ve actually had several uncomfortable interactions with this human over the last several months. There is nothing amazing about our exchanges. There are no raised voices or anything of the sort that would lead a casual observer to believe there is tension or discord.

What is clear, at least to me, when replaying these interactions on the outside, is that I am trying way too damn hard. I am reverting to my solicitous ways. I am relying on my old patterns where I try to fix what I believe to be displeasure with me by falling all over myself to do things differently. This is, of course, without guidance or a real indication as to how I’ve failed. 

This person that I am thinking of, speaks to me like I’m an ill-informed child. There is coldness. So much coldness. There is a whole bunch of matter-of-fact speech patterning. And also, there is something that I might describe as disgust. Distain? Frustration? Perhaps, just the strong desire to teach, to correct, to school. I am the ill-informed one in the pair and my ignorance isn’t just a lack of information. It’s a criminal offence. 

I am quite literally damned if I do and damned if I don’t. I even tried to address the situation by asking what I might be doing to offend this person. I mostly knew the response before I even uttered the words, and still, I didn’t feel like I had a choice. I had to try, right? Even with a full understanding of my marshmallow sensibilities and this other human’s lack of concern over the disintegration of our relationship, I still had to try.

Of course, I was branded as crazy and imaginative, and once again, was left with feelings of dissatisfaction and if I’m honest, regret. I didn’t regret asking the question entirely, but I regretted making myself so vulnerable to someone who doesn’t really seem to care. 

I didn’t rage or secure my defenses. Oh no. I just cried. And wrung my hands. And wondered how I could possibly exist as a marshmallow in a world where not only am I surrounded by forks, but one where I choose to connect to forks. Befriend forks. I try to understand what I might do better to avoid the poke of fork tines more skillfully.

What I am no longer doing is pretending that the fork tines don’t wound me. I can’t be something that isn’t a marshmallow. I am one, through and through. I am soft and sensitive, and I feel things deeply and profoundly, every time. I have nothing to prove and staying in a friendship that brings me endless grief is not something I’ll get an award for anytime soon. That kind of resiliency only ends in pain, not wisdom or growth. 

Here’s the thing, if someone has an issue with you, they should just tell you how they feel or what’s going on, or even, heaven forbid, what you might do to make things better. There may not be a perfect solution to implement, and it may take time, and at the end of that exercise, there may still be irreconcilable differences. But the trying is what changes things. The trying is what makes things more palatable if you stay and more peaceable if you leave. 

One person can’t try. Both persons must commit to open communication. That doesn’t mean that you can’t have a shit day where you do a bad job whilst sharing. You are entitled to grumpiness and sullenness and overreaction. That’s just to say that as a more general rule, you do the work to get to common ground. You work on finding that effortless ebb and flow that comes with a relationship that makes sense. The sticky points emerge, but they are navigable because there is an overarching thought and feeling that the relationship is too important to throw in the towel.

I have found myself many times in my almost forty-two years, uttering such statements as “I think she loves me but…..”

There should be no but there. Not because complications and disagreements don’t arise in the course of any and every relationship. Nope. They do, always. More so because those interactions should in no way jeopardize the knowledge that there is underlying love and respect and consideration. 

Of course, you might be thinking that I would question a relationship anyway, given my general distrust for other forks, or humans as they may be. True. I might have some doubts from time to time, but those minor insecurities aren’t what I’m referring to here, at all. I’m talking about that feeling you have at the end of the day, when you know that someone isn’t jumping ship. When you know that someone wants to talk to you and see you and be in your life in a meaningful way.  Any doubt that arises is swiftly buried because the reality of the connection rears its comforting head. 

I don’t have that with this human. If I’m honest, I don’t remember when I did. And a good deal of my energy has been spent lately figuring out how to walk most gingerly on these fork tines (or eggshells) I’ve been presented with to avoid devastation and upset. I’m not sure where to go from here, not yet, but I know shit is bad. I know this doesn’t feel good. I feel confident that I’ll probably always piss this person off and disappoint them, but they will never really tell me why. 

This is not about winning. No one wins here. But, once I start figuring this out a little, I can lay out a path forward. And once I do that, I can work on protecting my marshmallow exterior. And that’s something, isn’t it?

X

L.