If Nothing Changes Nothing Changes

Saturday my hair dresser told me about her love life. She’d been seeing a man for years and he’d come and go. One morning a few months ago he woke up and said “It’s over.” No discussion, no conversation. She suspected that he was seeing someone else or making space for someone else. She was devastated.

But, she told me, last week he called one day. He was in the neighborhood, he said, and could he stop by? Yes, she let him. He stayed two hours. The painter was there so they lay in her bed. Kissing. Touching. She told him she needed to hear him talk. Could he explain what had happened? Yes, he said, let’s have dinner tomorrow and talk about us.

The next day she did not hear from him. Nor the next day. When she called him he said he was sorry that he had stopped by, he really did not want to start up again. She suspected that he was going thru a bad patch with the other woman and came to her for comfort—again.

She sent him a text message saying she hated him. The next day she sent another one telling him his faults, and then one more text saying again that she hated him. She heard nothing from him.

I listened to her and I could see it all so clearly. No boundaries, no self-respect, actually believing that the angry text messages mattered to him. And then I had to ask myself: Why is it so easy to see it when another woman allows this in her life? What do others see when they look at my life?

If nothing changes nothing changes.