This week's word is "middle." Before reading on, it's important to note that I do have good friends and people in my life who are trust-worthy, so I hope no one will be offended or take my piece the wrong way. These were just random thoughts that came to me as I let my fingers do the typing, which is how the ideal 5-minute Friday works.
Piqued your curiosity?
Middle. I’ve been in the middle for as long as I can remember. I’ve always been that go-to person, the one who’s identified as the “good listener,” the “confidante,” the secret-keeper.” If you want to tell someone something and have it go no further, I’m your gal. I’m a close-lidded container, a coffin, an urn. Your secret will go to the grave.
I guess I take some pride in being so trusted. And it is a good thing to be a person of your word, not a gossip, not a rumour-monger. No one needs to worry if they tell me something that they’ll later hear it from someone else. I’m not fond of back-stabbers and have no desire to be one. A careless word has caused many a hardship and ruined many a friendship.
Still, being the repository of so much that is private can also be a kind of burden. The weight of secrets can weigh a person down over time. Or wear you like a well-polished stone. And when you’ve found that trust is sometimes a one-way street, to whom do you tell your own stories? You keep them between your heart, your lips, and God’s ear, a whisper between earth and heaven. In that middle place.