Because you might care

We broached the subject of characteristics that harsh voices urge us to look for in a partner. The first two I thought of were appearance and wealth. She was talking at the time. She stuttered for maybe two seconds. I imagined it to be her trying hard not to name those two. I feel that I came from those two. I have been made to feel ashamed of them by others. She named about seven other characteristics first, during a time in which she spoke with more difficulty than her usual self. I put on my neutralish but attentively listening face. I tried my best not to show any signs of "I know what you're doing." She finally names the two characteristics, with her difficult face that I came to know, and a slightly hesitant cadence.

I talked about a story of an older woman who hurt me. In my age, a lot of women technically are older. It could span those in their middle age, those older, and those older still. I wanted to specify so that she has a more accurate mental image of the person in my story, but I couldn't think of a way to say it without feeling surely that I won't hurt her. She is one or two generations older than me. Even though I'm pretty sure she is, probably, for the most part, accepting of her age, I was mindful that self-compassion fluctuates and so it might be hurtful to talk about age in any ways that are remotely negatively-meaning -- even when, ideally, it shouldn't be. I chose not to say "old," "wiser," or "more experienced." Some things don't always come with age. I wanted to be kind, but authentic. With a feeling of hesitancy, nervousness, and caution, I said "older," then I think I said the approximate age of the older lady. I looked at her. Her face didn't change.

In my imagination, we talked this way because we thought the person we're talking to might care.

And we talked this way, because we cared.

As you walk toward your dream, child, you might become afraid because of the unknown.

But I know today that you're ready to make any of it okay.