One Story, One Million Perspectives

Has anyone ever paused to look around them and wonder what is going on in other people’s lives? The man dressed in a suit walking down the street screaming on his cellphone. I see this guy and immediately sprint to label him as a Corporate America Asshole. Maybe he just got the most traumatic news on that phone call – something that completely explains his rushed behavior and harsh words. 

Truthfully, I have no idea what is going on in anyone’s world but my own. Everyone else’s actions are just reflections of how I am feeling at that moment.

Think about it – does anyone know every detail about your life? Every single thing? I surely hope not. I know I have some secrets that will die with me. You do, too. Let’s be real.

I got into an Uber the other day. As usual, I slowly walk up behind the car with my detective persona on. In order to ease my stress, I pull out my mental checklist: does the license plate number on the car match the one on my phone? Does the driver match their photo? Are they wearing a Bluetooth thing in their ear? Thank god, then they won’t talk to me. Success!

I am greeted by an overly enthusiastic woman who clearly had different plans for this car ride than I did. Getting into an Uber is already a nightmare for someone like me with social anxiety – this situation was not an exemption. This woman wanted to know everything about my day. Meanwhile, I am desperate for a silent car ride where I can listen to music with no painful small talk that I will forget about the second I step into my own personal comfort. 

I find small talk to be the hardest thing to do. It does not come naturally to me at all. That may be a niche topic, so we’ll save that tiny talk, or long rant, for another time.

This woman was relentless. I’d given my best attempt of “I’m only answering because it will be awkward if I don’t, but please leave me alone” types of answers to her questions. Well, that failed. Quite miserably. My lack of enthusiasm doubled her confidence. She wasn’t going to stop until I gave in to her conversational wishes, so inevitably, I gave in. I decided to ask her some questions and I could not be happier that I did. 

She’s a single mother who has a son around my age. All of her life, she was focused on her marriage, and once that came to an end, so did she. In a second, the ground under her crumbled. Already feeling like she lived, or wasted, enough life. She was done. 

She expressed how angry she was specifically with her father. He barely reached out to make sure that she was feeling okay. He didn’t offer to visit her and help put the pieces back together. Why didn’t he care about her in her darkest moment? Instead of continuing to drag out the unspoken anger she held towards him, she gave her father a call. 

He was diagnosed with terminal cancer 2 weeks before her call. He was told had roughly a year to live. He didn’t want to call her and break the bad news yet, because he didn’t want to put her in an even darker place when he didn’t have the strength to lighten her up. 

One situation. Two very different sides. 

Mortified by her quick judgment, she decided that this was her time to step up and rewrite her story. She lived with her father and took care of him every second. Words cannot express the look on her face as she spoke about those months. Pure bliss. The reuniting of a family that never felt united. 

She used this time to get to know her father, and ultimately herself, better. She finally began to see how precious life was and as cliche as it sounds, the reality that it won’t last forever. After her father’s passing, she didn’t feel loneliness or despair, but instead closure and fulfillment. She was finally growing into herself and was happy with this new person she was meeting. 

She was moving to California in two days. I was her final Uber ride before she went home, packed up, said goodbye to her friends, and moved across the country. She decided to rent a place by the ocean and write. Write every day until her voice was truly heard and her story was told. She was hoping to find herself in unexpected ways. 

This car ride lasted 9 minutes. 

That’s how long it took to completely change my attitude towards this person. I despised the first minute of that ride just for it to end up being a pinnacle moment of my life. A moment I will always reference to remind myself that I will never know exactly what is going on in another person’s life and no one will ever know exactly what’s going on in mine.

The server that took too long to get your order out. 

The co-worker that took the last cup of coffee in the office.

The Uber driver who won’t stop talking your ear off.

Are they assholes, or did you choose to let THEIR action make YOU mad? See, it all circles back to ourselves. We actively spend time making other people’s decisions our problems. How exhausting…

You may not think you do this, but your subconscious does. Even if in very small doses. It’s human nature to imagine ourselves as the sun and everyone else as tiny planets circling around us. Life isn’t that simple. 

No one is gonna see you the way you see you. Swallow that pill and keep moving. Tell YOUR story, and become comfortable with there being a million different versions. Maybe you’ll end up creating a better ending. 

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