During the past few months, I've stumbled into conversations with men and women who are processing the pain of betrayal. "I was treated with contempt." "I was tossed aside with disregard." "I am a sacred being, but my best friend thought I was disposable."
I listen. I wonder.
How did I reach the ripe old age of 48 without developing antennae for this unique pain suffered by so many of my fellow travelers? I suppose I was blessed with true friends, and that blinded me to the existence of false ones.
But they're there.
Each time a man begins to tell his story, I marvel that I am here, listening. It is so rare to hear the feelings of a grown man. Yet here, suddenly, his thoughts spill out in a shared moment, and I learn.
Men communicate more succinctly than women. When the subject is rejection, men go from "The Act of Betrayal" to a brief expose on "Human Decency v. Hatred" to "Now I've Moved On" in surprising short order.
One man focused on what he has learned about himself and how he has grown. I listened and pondered the path of this man's life. Each day is a gift, and each moment presents the choice to grow or to languish. This particular man suffered an extraordinary betrayal in his professional life, cried a small puddle of tears, and then purposefully set a path for growth. He took an intensely injurious situation and authored his outcome in a simple yet effective 1, 2, 3.
I salute you who have suffered the indignity of betrayal only to embrace humanity with bigger, stronger arms. Your willingness to love and trust again, and the gracious and dignified way in which you live speaks volumes of your greatness.
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