Oh… this is going to get downright dirty and personal very quickly.
You really wanna know?
My idiocy.
Yes. I said it. You heard it right.
I am not calling out a villain. I am calling out my younger self.
One thing I’ve forgiven but will NEVER forget is my own idiocy.
For a woman who never tires of saying she has trust issues, you wouldn’t believe the number of times I have placed my trust in people, places, and things that don’t belong anywhere near a world that knows what trust is.
I am blessed with a gut instinct equipped with radar, sonar, and every other faculty that scans for dicey people with questionable intentions, spots tricky situations that can blow up in my face, and warns me of danger before the danger even begins to plot against me.
You would think I’d be extraordinarily careful with my trust.
Hmm… sorry to disappoint you, but I wasn’t.
Let me take you through some incredulous facepalm moments.
The midnight foot-in-the-ball game:
Two decades ago, I agreed to share a room with a new coworker because the boss was on a tight budget, even though I knew I should trust my gut more and the new guy in the office less. We all know the stunt he tried to pull that night–an uncalled for advance.
Thank God I had the reflexes to kick his balls at bloody 2 a.m. BUT the whole mess could have been avoided if I had paid heed to the bells clanging inside me before I even went on that business trip.
Love in the time of Day Blindness:
Two decades ago, I fell hard for a friend I’d made through my first blog, back when blogging was just starting to become a thing. I had no business falling in love with a man on the other side of the screen who, for all I knew, could have been gay, married, or in the Russian mafia.
But there I was, professing undying love for him and already dreaming of a house in the mountains, children—a boy and a girl, for whom I had already picked the names—a dog, a cat, and a hamster on a wheel.
We all know what he turned out to be—an abusive, narcissistic Casanova with daddy issues. I went straight into a depressive rabbit hole instead of the gorgeous home in the mountains of my dreams. Thank God I didn’t kill myself, although I was on the verge too many times to count.
Carpe diem-ing into a wet wall:
Two decades ago, I set up a boutique with not enough investment but with enough passion to dive headlong into the unknown. Facing red tape, corruption, gender discrimination, and a consumer attitude that I could never figure out, I blindly walked into fire every morning, hoping it would be the day things turned for the better.
Sounds brave? Maybe. But if I had the bones of a good business woman I should have ideally quit business when I didn’t break even in the first six months. Instead I hugged my dream a little too hard and pushed through instead of being pragmatic and letting it go.
While my instincts screamed at me to walk away, I held on, afraid to start over yet again.
We all know how it ended — I eventually quit after a decade of struggle without so much as a backup plan. A complete burnout, disillusionment, and apathy that changed me from a hopeful romantic to a cynic. Thank God, this time I didn’t go down the suicide way.
Two decades ago…Oh stop it Lulu, we all know you were an idiot back then!
Thank you! Yes, I was a total idiot back then—naive, believing in the utopian goodness of people, trusting everyone blindly, trusting in hope and dreams, and believing that passion and hard work alone could help achieve the impossible—blind to the ground reality.
Completely oblivious to my gut instincts that were sending SOS after SOS each time I got embroiled in yet another wild goose chase.
Thankfully, I am no longer in my 20s. Sadly, I don’t trust anyone anymore, not even my own mother at times! Gratefully, I now hear my gut instincts’ distinct rumble before an issue comes too close to hitting me. And I am, unforgivably, a die-hard cynic.
You know what? I am perfectly happy being who I am now.
I have forgiven my past self. She was who she was. Too sweet. Too naive. Frankly, too much of a duncehead.
But I will never forget the price I paid for being an absolute top of the class idiot.
Care to drop a tiny pearl from the ocean of your mind?