…to someone who is probably never going to read it.
As you probably haven’t noticed, dear readers, I’ve taken down a post I wrote the other day about my visit to Birmingham. Turns out that I was making gross assumptions about a colleague of my father’s, and his attitude towards me, and I feel terrible for just leaping back here and ranting and raving about something about which I knew nothing. We all have things we don’t necessarily want to talk about, it turns out, and I’m aware now that he almost certainly had no wish to belittle me or hurt my feelings. I feel terrible – terribly insensitive, and rash, and rude, and I have a lot to learn. It seems ironic that while he may have been making certain assumptions about me, my assumptions about him were even wider of the mark.
I still don’t like feeling like I have something to prove; I still don’t like that people make assumptions about me and my past, and that I don’t want to tell them the truth because I want to move on from that and for it to no longer be an issue, which means that I have to just let them think whatever they like about why I’m back in the first year again. But I suppose the lesson to be learned from this is that if I don’t want people to make assumptions about me, I shouldn’t just assume things about them either. Not that that’s entirely possible, but I should certainly try (there are some things you just can’t guess about a person).
So there you go; I’ve taken that post down, and I’m sorry that I’ve had to do that because I still think the subject of the rant was apt; but that it should not really have been aimed at this man in particular, and for that I feel a lot worse.