[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav

  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav

    << | >>

    dots Submission Name: She Didn't Knowdots

    Author: Emerging Soul
    ASL Info:    48/VERY female/Wisconsin
    Elite Ratio:    4.36 - 1240/1114/244
    Words: 741
    Class/Type: Story/Depressed
    Total Views: 808
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4124

       This is something that is very traumatic to me in my life. I know..."To be so lucky to have such a problem..." but it still sucker-punches my emotions sometimes.

    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsShe Didn't Knowdots

    "Is that yo' daughter?" she said, disbelievingly. "How old she be?"

    "21," I answered.

    "You got a 21-year-old daughter, and you look like you do? Livin' large must be good to yo' face!" she laughed, and suddenly I wanted to be rid of her. I was so tired of hearing that opinion.

    She didn't know me. She didn't know the time and hard work put in to deserve what we have. She didn't know I came from nothing, didn't know the tears I've cried, the hardships I've known. She didn't know about the years waitressing, or walking 2 miles to the grocery store to save on cab fare because pennies meant eating dinner or not. She didn't know that I had also known the fear of not making ends meet, not being able to buy needed things let alone luxuries. All she could see was what I now had. That's all anyone could see.

    I passed money to her in exchange for her sale. I didn't need the "Industrial Strength Cleaner" she was hawking for an un-Godly price of $64 a bottle. I had felt sorry for her, knowing that she had spent the better part of this 90-degree day walking the streets of this city or another nearby, hoping for just one sale. I paid her cash so that if need be she could pocket it and profit more than the paltry $5 share that was probably hers at the end if she chose to do so.

    I knew the photograph of twin babies was a ruse, or just an obvious "feel sorry for me" tactic. But I had just written the weekly $125 check to the cleaning-lady for her 6-hours of dusting, vaccuming, waxing and washing that she'd done in my house and figured I could spare it for a good cause as well.

    Standing in front of the Mercedes and the Beemer in the driveway, she had asked me which one I drove. "Both," I had answered, and she had said, "Girl, you want to adopt a black girl?" and laughed.

    She didn't know the arguments we had had over these cars. How I didn't want to buy them, thought them too ostentatious, felt embarrassed to drive them for so many years. The BMW a 1997 model with less than 3000 miles on it. The Mercedes a 2001 with less than 15,000. She didn't know how I missed my old Buick, how I'd been happy with it, hadn't wanted or needed more.

    I could see myself through her eyes, and it took me back again to the struggle I have gone through in recent years just to stop feeling guilty for our success after we've worked SO hard and have gone through SO much.

    So I handed her the money and sent her on her way, feeling somewhat wounded by the encounter. I had thought that I had stopped caring what people thought, stopped fighting with the instinct to down-play things and try to weaken the wall that made me different from everyone else around me.

    I was surrounded by opulence and size, our home sitting royally at the end of the cul-de-sac, inviting passers-by to linger and look and dream as they circled by just to be nosy.

    There was such an urgency inside of me to stand up and scream, "THIS IS NOT WHO I AM!!!" but it was no longer true. I had gotten used to the space and the finery. I was not the pampered pet that many seemed to envision, I worked hard in my office every day. Still did the shopping, the laundry, the cooking, the bills, the child-rearing, the maintenance of our life. But I had to acknowledge that I will forever be seen as the spoiled gold-digger eating bon-bons in front of the television Soaps by those who don't know me. And it made me feel tired. And alone. And sad.

    So as I set the bottles of cleaner in the closet and returned to the telephone, the fax, the computer, and the paperwork, I tried to wipe the incident from my mind and focus upon my responsibilities.

    "She didn't know," I told myself.

    "She didn't know."

    Submitted on 2004-07-24 13:11:25     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!

    ||| Comments |||
      I think you've articulated the protestant guilt ethic really well.
    In diary form too.
    And industrial strength cleaner at comedy prices is only a momentary release from being forced to count your good fortune.
    Just gives credence to the old adage that the harder you work, the luckier you get.
    I like that you reminded me not to feel the way you do...
    | Posted on 2004-07-24 00:00:00 | by Awkward | [ Reply to This ]
      people can be so judgmental without even knowing a person's circumstance. it is so true that you cannot judge a book by it's cover. this is a good lesson in holding one's tongue before making a comments such as this woman did to you. we can't know what someone else has been through. i'm glad you posted this. it is a reminder--judge not, lest ye be judged. good work.
    | Posted on 2004-07-24 00:00:00 | by magnicat | [ Reply to This ]

    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?


    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.

    Bond written by saartha
    Red Barn written by rev.jpfadeproof
    May 31 2018 written by Chelebel
    Bee Keeper written by endlessgame23
    Wish written by Daniel Barlow
    To the King written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Once Again written by krs3332003
    This written by Chelebel
    new moon written by CrypticBard
    The Song on Your Guitar written by SavedDragon
    Linger written by saartha
    It's been a while written by Sharati_hottie
    Trails written by Daniel Barlow
    To Glow written by krs3332003
    Song written by Daniel Barlow
    Treasure Chest written by PieceOfCake
    Be Free written by hybridsongwrite
    Unfortunate Reality written by TeslaKoyal
    Life changes in a moment written by Ramneet
    Deaf Dumb and Blind is no excuse written by poetotoe
    One Thing written by Wolfwatching
    Ten Poems written by Wolfwatching
    Devils in the Details written by endlessgame23
    Munyonyo written by expiring_touch
    Skin of Fables written by ShadowParadox
    In the Mouth of Elysium written by HisNameIsNoMore
    cleverly shunned written by CrypticBard
    Love Can Be... written by HAVENSMITH92
    4th Season of Vivaldi written by HisNameIsNoMore
    Giving written by jjd




    User Name:


    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]

    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]

    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]