Memory of a Goldfish

You know what your problem is? You have the memory of a goldfish when it comes to how people have treated you. Says my best friend of over 20 years.

And she is right. I was thinking about this recently when, for the umpteenth time, I gave a chance to someone who didn’t deserve it. There’s something about shame and all the baggage that comes with it that makes me an easy target. As a person, I’ll do everything in my power not to cause shame for someone, even if it means carrying their shame for them. Feeling ashamed shakes me to my core, and I’ll do almost anything to avoid being the cause of it.

But that tendency comes at a cost. It often results in giving chances to people who can hurt me.

You know when people ask what your favorite quote of all time is? Usually, the first one that comes to mind is: “When people show you who they are, believe them the first time,” by Maya Angelou. I know it’s not always negative; it could just as easily apply to someone cautious who wants to trust but waits until they’re certain they won’t get hurt, even if it means risking losing someone in the process.

For me, though, it’s a reminder to acknowledge someone’s shortcomings the first time I see them instead of convincing myself I’ve judged too quickly. My life is filled with stories of giving people chance after chance, hoping one day they’d become the person I could keep in my life.

But the wisdom of many heartbreaks has taught me this: it’s not about changing them. It’s about accepting who they are and deciding whether to keep them in your life anyway.

I’ve had many lonely stretches when I walked away from relationships that might have worked if I’d been able to accept the person as they were. Sometimes I managed to rebuild a little of what was lost, but I can’t help wondering how different things could have been.

Other times, I kept relationships far longer than I should have, hopelessly rooting for a sliver of change, only to face endings that were more bitter and painful than they needed to be.

So why am I writing all this? Because I need to forgive myself.

I’ve been seething for days over giving someone a chance and letting a small act of kindness shape how I saw myself, only to find out there were ulterior motives behind it. I shouldn’t have trusted this person, let alone allowed them to influence how I think about myself. This time, at least, it only took a couple of weeks for them to show me I was wrong.

I still felt good about what I did, but it didn’t erase the heartbreak. Not just from this moment but from all the old memories it brought back, the times I’d been here before, thinking I’d learned, only to find myself repeating the same pattern.

The gremlin in my mind went to work, calling me all sorts of names: naive, gullible, idiot. The goldfish fooled again.

But this time, I did something different.

The old me would have swallowed the sadness and anger, hiding that I knew I was being played. Not this time. This time, I told him I knew what game he was playing and that I knew he was lying. I told him I wished he’d just asked me for what he needed instead of hiding behind fake kindness. And then I told him I was still willing to help, but he needed to know he wasn’t fooling me. Not this time.

Taking agency over how I felt, saying it out loud, and owning my emotions was a step toward the person I want to be.

I’m not writing this to say, “Yay, me, look how wise I am.” I’m writing it to remember the moment I stood up for myself, the moment I chose acceptance over resentment. We can’t change anyone. What we can change is how we respond to what they put us through.

After days of inwardly seething, this is what I keep repeating to myself:

Don’t carry the shame someone created for themselves. It’s not yours to hold.
And above all, be kind
to yourself
before anyone else.