I saw in Journal

a name I haven’t seen in years. And it brought me back. I can imagine this person asking me, “So, what have you done with yourself in all these years?”
An innocent enough question, although I feel again a shadow of shame. It is a shame that at one time I felt so poignantly that it might as well have defined my existence. It is that assumption of privilege- how I imagine most people view someone who inherited a great deal of money. I inherited a great deal of talent, intelligence, competence, ethic, and expectations. And of course, when this assumption is made, so is a basic comparison. The average is this, so if I started above average, I must have done something exceptional. Or else I am a failure.
And I can imagine smiling wryly without even a glimmer of that old panic-anxiety to perform, and say “not much” in response. I don’t play those games anymore. I bowed out. That was back when I started to realize that everything is an act. The only thing that matters is connection.
I sort of morn, in a way, all the people that I knew like this person who’s name I saw. She was not a bad person. She was a product of her environment, the same as I was. The difference between us, I think, was that she blamed me personally for the way I was. And I .. didn’t. I didn’t blame her. I mean she wasn’t particularly great to me and still I never blamed her personally for failing to be nicer. There are these moments, or people, or instances, that really just stick in our minds. Over time I’ve forgotten and can’t remember if I tried 99% of my interactions with people. But the ones I do remember, I remember for a reason. Most of the time it takes me quite awhile to figure it out.
This person. She humiliated me. Not in an obvious way, like many others did. But in a very covert and personal way. Idk if I have the patience to tell the whole story.
You know. It almost makes me hate her, now. For what she did. I can see that she was the type of girl that my mom wished was her daughter, instead of me. And it was my mom who made me realize how deep and hurtful this girls humiliation was.
I mean. It wasn’t this girl’s particular personal virtue that my mother wanted in a daughter. It was just luck. A combination of inherited traits. But also that drive, or ambition, that was very masculine. To show off but be a good sport. To lead but connect with the under dog. To be popular without being a slut. And to be frank, I may have been those things if my mother hadn’t systematically corrupted my personality. It is beyond cruel to choose genetics for your child that you don’t like. It’s sadistic to beat out pieces of as child’s personality only to praise those aspects in someone else. But the point is, this girl didn’t earn those things. I didn’t, either. Not as I inherited them anyway.
I did earn their reclamation.
So. She only made it clear to me that she expected me to perform. Failure to perform to some expected level for someone with my gifts, talents, ability, etc, meant that I had personally failed. Ie, I was immoral. Lazy. Selfish. Conceited. Hateful. Spiteful. Whatever. But it was enough for her to feel justified in humiliating me.
But I am free. I can see that she is not a good person, however she tries to present herself. I don’t feel inferior to her. I would not want to be like her. I would not want to be in her shoes. Her conscious is very heavy.
I can see now why she did that to me. Her conscious hates me.