It strikes me as odd that I would never question anybody else’s “right” to feel a certain way, but I question my own all the time. For instance when a friend confides in me that they’ve been feeling sad or nostalgic or grieving over a breakup or a 77 on a spanish test or a lack of Halloween candy — anything, I immediately try and remember a time I’ve felt a similar feeling, and listen to what they’re saying, and see if I can help. What I’ve learned is that a lot of times when people are talking to you about how they feel, in their gut they don’t really want advice. Mostly people want someone to listen to them and say things will be ok for them, and that nothing is ruined and someone believes in them and there’s still hope. And of course when you say these things you have to believe them with the kind of strong believing that kept the leaning tower of Pisa from collapsing.

Never in a million years, though, would I even consider whether someone has a right to be sad that their crush doesn’t seem to be showing interest or that they had a bad fight with their mom when there are starving kids in Africa and homeless people out there. I would whip out one of my favorite quotes by George Bernard Shaw “nothing that grieves us can be called little: by the eternal laws of proportion a child’s loss of a doll and a kings loss of a crown are events of the same size.” I like that quote a lot but I guess when it comes to my own problems I stop believing it. I feel all this guilt about stuff that happened months ago, little flits and flecks fall every so often like scaffolding and I always think things like “self, you are dumb as shit! Why can’t you let anything go? Why is this even bothering you? There are starving children in Africa! So many worse things have happened to people you interact with every single day! Get a grip and stop being pathetic!”

Its ironic that I’m so much less understanding of my own feelings than other people’s. I guess it’s just the way of the world.