Hindsight

[lydy]

So, imagine that you had a Bohemian, libidinous past. In your early twenties, you meet a wonderful man, marry, have three kids, and return to the religion in which you were raised. Possibly, this change to a conservative lifestyle is at least partly a response to finding your previous rebellious lifestyle unsatisfactory. Many years later, an old flame calls. To complicate matters, she's a, well, she, and so is twice a sin, once as a pre-marital affair, and twice as a same-sex relationship. Even if, or perhaps especially if, you have feelings about her, it is an uncomfortable situation. Another ten or so years go by, your life has become infinitely more complicated, and the affection you felt for her is even older and more faded, the church more conservative, and the taboo against same-sex relationships strongly reinforced -- and she tries to make contact, again. Frankly, this isn't the sort of conversation you really want to have, at the moment. Or ever. The absolute best it can be is painful, and the worst is, well, pretty unimaginably horrible.

No, I don't think I'll write a letter, or send email, or anything else. I hadn't thought of things from her side. I most emphatically hadn't thought of myself as an old regret. I forgot that that was the way it works. I mean, sure, now I'm a sin, I can dig that. But I'd forgotten that the whole repentance thing would reach backwards. I'd been thinking of conversion as, like, a new beginning. It's not, though, and I should have remembered that. I'm probably as welcome as a bull in a China shop. You know, it's embarrassing to not have thought of all of this, before. Even without some of the more tragic underpinnings, I should have been more careful. Boy, ain't hindsight something?

Comments

[lydy.livejournal.com]

I knew the second time, not the first. Don't misunderstand, though. I don't feel guilty about either time. I just feel stupid for having been unprepared, and for not tailoring my attempt to contact to her with that information in mind. I don't know what I would have done differently, but I just hadn't thought of it from her point of view, and I really should have made more of an effort. It wouldn't have affected the final outcome, I think, but I could have been more graceful, and I might have caused less hurt, if I caused hurt, which of course, I don't know. It's not guilt, it's just annoyance at having failed to use my brain and my resources. All this time, I'm worried that she's worried about her husband, completely forgetting the whole moral aspect of the thing. Me, a preacher's kid! I mean, that's really pretty amazing. It's nice to have been away from religion this long, but I should have at least wondered what role her religion might be playing in all of this.

[jiawen]

Yes, it probably would've been best had you taken all that into account. I feel that kind of thing all the time -- "Why didn't I realize that X would Y if I Z'd?" To some extent, though, the only thing you can do is learn from it and try not to do it again later.