I’m intrigued by what goes through people’s heads. What’s their thought process? Why do they think the way they do? What’s their story? What has made them become who they are? Why do they respond to things differently than I do?
Sadly, I forget that the people I know and love most also have stories. I’ve become so comfortable in their presence and trust them, that I just assume I know everything there is to know about them. I don’t ask deep, probing questions anymore. I don’t try to get inside their heads or understand their hearts.
It crushes me when I’m abruptly reminded that I really don’t know them. I’ve seemingly stopped caring. I’ve attributed their flaws and wrongs to their personalities, responding with anger, but not thinking that they could be struggling with a past or present event.
It’s the worst feeling in the world to be shocked back into reality, discovering I need to continually chase after those I love.
Ironically, it’s been through the process of loving people, listening to their stories, and asking questions that I’ve learned the most about myself.
The parts of me that I’ve hidden away, that I’ve forgotten exist, have come to mind. My flaws and inconsistencies have been brought to light. I’ve been asked tough questions and I’ve been forced to confront things about myself and confess things of the past. It’s been an incredible journey. I learn more and more about myself every day. In the process, I’m learning to give more and more grace to those around me. May this always be true.