I'm OK

She has moved on, is growing comfortable with her new life. Makes me wonder how I’ll manage the same.

Not ready yet... but I wonder.

A woman passed me in the store this evening. She looked familiar, I did a double take, wondered if she was the mother of one of my students.

She smiled, I asked if I knew her. Turns out I’ve never met her. We spoke for a little bit, a friendly little chat.

As she left I realized I had been relaxed, comfortable talking with her. It surprised me a bit.

A few minutes later I ran into someone else. It was very awkward.

She is someone Brenda had mentioned as a person who had married happily to someone she’d had an affair with.

This person is very kind, very sweet. But between us lay the understanding of her situation, mine, Brenda’s. She reached out, touched my arm, showed me she understood, cared.

I hustled away, forgetfully moving past several aisles I needed to shop. I didn’t like what I was thinking, feeling. Surprising how quickly my mood changed.

I think too much.

That’s OK.

Everyone is unique. Like everyone else.

Human beings come in variety. We think differently, look differently, have different histories, dispositions.

On my way to my bachelor’s degree I had to take a number of credits outside my major. I took a class called “Women in Culture,” categorized as a social studies course. I thought it might be interesting.

In the first class the professor spoke at length of how unfair men had been to women throughout history, throughout cultures.

There were several other men in the class with me, but only two of them were there at the next class.

In that second time together the instructor was harsher about men than in the first. I could see the other men making up their minds to drop the course ASAP. I told myself I wouldn’t.

The next class I was the only male there... except for the professor.

Strange course.

The professor encouraged the women to share the injustices they had endured from men. He spoke at length about studies of prostitutes in third world countries. Throughout the course he did his best to show how hurtful men have been, are, and will probably always be. He invited guest speakers who talked about the porn industry, salary inequities, and glass ceilings.

He hated men.

At one point several women targeted their vitriolic complaints at me. A kind woman said it wasn’t fair to dump that on me, but he said that since women had suffered so much, it would be good for me to feel it also.

I poured myself into that class. I was not going to get anything less than an “A” in the course. I would make every assignment I did the best the class produced.

He was impressed by my research paper. He noted it included sources that were authoritative, current, and well chosen for the topic he had assigned... menstruation.

I got the A.

Everyone is different.

I’m OK.