Now that I have your attention, let’s talk about gossip. I have a very diverse group of amazing friends. I am not sure how I have gotten so many amazing people to hang with me; I am certain that I am blessed with friends that are way beyond what I deserve in life. I recently realized that there is just one common trait among all of my friends, and that is they have better things to do than to tear other people down with gossip.
I am not saying we don’t share news about other. That isn’t gossip. Who got a new job, who is having a new baby, who is in love with someone new that is news. By gossip, I mean speaking of someone in a negative, often inaccurate and exaggerated manner, so that others form a negative opinion of the person that you talking about. And all the while the gossiper is spreading their poison the listeners all become a tad less secure as they begin to worry about what is said about them. That is how the destruction of gossip works. Gossip is a disease that spreads and sickens the mind.
Gossip is quite possibly the greatest source of unhappiness and anxiety in the entirety of the world. When we are hurt or sick, we come together, in contrast we do not see gossip as a disease and it tears us apart.
I am just like anyone else having felt anxiety around what is being said about me during difficult times such as my divorce. At a previous job, I made a male co-worker feel rejected. I was upfront with him that I wasn’t interested, and that my heart belonged to someone else. I thought that he would appreciate my honesty, and that we could be friends, instead he said unthinkable things about me to anyone that would listen. That was the worst run of the gossip disease that I had experienced in my adult life. In time, this proved to be a positive experience as I found that there were those that I thought I could trust and depend upon that I really couldn’t, and there were people I felt I hardly knew that stood boldly up for me.
For many years now, I have been free of the pain and anxiety of gossip. My circle of friends gave me immunity to this disease. I know that I have people that I can count on, and I let go of what people I don’t really know think. Then I was sharply reminded of what it is like to be the subject of gossip. I had a neighbor running around telling everyone that there is something wrong with me, which is why I am not married. She told anyone that would listen that I was always drunk and hanging all over married men. She claimed that I wore short skirts and flashed everyone my underwear at a local bar that we sometimes hang out at.
All of that sounds terrible and none of it is true. Well except maybe the bit about there being something wrong with me. It has occurred to me that I am not married because there is something wrong with me and no one will tell me what it is. This occurs to me only when I want to find a reason to be down. Truthfully, if I wanted to settle for someone that met the classic criteria of an eligible bachelor, instead of finding love; I could certainly be married by year’s end. I don’t want that. I am happy with my life. I do not have a need to be in a relationship. I want to be in love and with the person that I love, or I want to continue on my own raising my sons and enjoying everyday of my life. For me, there is no in between. A relationship for relationship status purposes is of no interest to me.
As always, I digress.
Back to the gossip. The terrible things that were being said to me by a neighbor to all of my neighbors that would listen. Imagine how I felt the day that I found this out….now imagine how I felt the day that I found this out through my own twelve year old son. This all exploded a few months back. Now, the smoke has cleared, and I have set the record straight. Actually, people that knew my children because they played with their children first had doubts about the gossip, then I learned about it from my son, and then I started setting the record straight.
Looking back, I have two regrets. The first is that I let her gossip tear me down. I was embarrassed, ashamed and I cried. I lashed out at people that were innocent, and I wasted otherwise happy days worrying about it. I wish that I had instead found strength in knowing that what she was saying wasn’t true. The second regret is that I was not her first victim, and I didn’t stand up for her other victims; at least, not until I found out that I myself was being gossiped about.
I cannot get those days back, but I can look forward. I have apologized to those that I didn’t stand up for, and there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that I will stand up for them in the future. I have stopped worrying about what she is saying, and I have focused back on what matters to me in life.
To end on an amusing note, I would rather have a friend that is a drunk than a gossip. I haven’t been drunk in a really long time, maybe you could drag me along with you. I would much rather you flash me your underwear than your gossip. I can handle a lot of flaws in a friend; I have too many to count in myself. I cannot handle gossip.