The Inability to Commit

Ok, so it has been FOREVER since I posted. And honestly, it is because everytime I came on here and saw how far behind I was, I felt overwhelmed, especially since I usually came on to write about something unrelated to my father´s trip, which is of course still chronologically first in the line up. But then I realized-I don´t have to stick to a timeline! There are no rules and regulations about blogs, and if I want to write about something random and break up a timeline, I am completely entitled to do it. I strangely feel I am sticking it to the man, or perhaps just my high school english teachers and their 5 paragraph essay, and I must say it feels good.

So, no worries, I will get back on track, but in the meantime, I have to talk about this topic.

For those of you who know me very well, or for a long time are very aware of the almost pathetically bad track record I have with close friends. There will always be Chandra and Lacy, to whom I am eternally indebted for showing me you can have faith in at least a small portion of the population, but for the most part I´ve been taught time and time again to not have too much faith in people. I am unfortunately a very very trusting person by nature, so this lesson never seems to stick.

My mala suerte, so to speak began at the ripe age of 3 with my first best friens, Ryanna, who showed me what it was to be stabbed in the back. She would constantly use me as her court joker when we were around other children, though we were the best of friends behind closed doors. Being so young, I didn´t really understand this act, or where it was coming from, and I was severely hurt, but thought if I was a better friend, or had tougher skin as all the adults told me I would get over it. It was MY problem, and I needed to firgure out what was wrong with me.

Fast forward to college, and I found history to repeat itself pretty often. Every few years, with each new coming of age I found a new friend who might not be as cruel as Ry, but it was pretty much the same story. I had moved before high school, and even switched school in the middle, and I found people to be rather unchanging in this particular area. Again, all of this simply enforces the fact that it is me. So I began to try even more desperately to change myself, anything and everything about myself to try to stop this awful cycle.

Of course those close to me know to what lengths I went, and I have to say at some point throughout college I really truly did change, I think for the better, and I seemed to find some sort of balance. I seemed to be able to pick out those people who would be my true friends more easily, and brush off the hurt from those who were obviously not for me. Well, then came my 21st birthday, where I learned once again not to count on people. And I again learned there must be something wrong with me.

I find it ironic I be writing this now, because pretty much every gringa blogger, Kyle, Emily, Heather, Emita :) have written on the topic of Chileans as untrustworthy, and untrusting, and thus impossible to make friends with. Being here for such a short time, I feel I cannot entirely appreciate this sentiment, because I still know I´m going back home in a short while-or at least to another country with new friend oppurtunities.

While here I have made some great latin friends. Not Chilean tho, mostly Venezuelan. One of them I even think I will be friends with long after I leave Chile. She and her husband are the kind of people I would come visit Chile for. Having said that, they recently went on vacation, which I was supposed to join them on. But due to their chaning their plans a million times and not consulting me once, I ended up not being able to go. It turned into them ignoring me as I texted 10 times in a day. I missed my oppurtunity to travel to other places because they were so inconsiderate of even telling me their plans. I still love them dearly, but once again I feel I have learned to take care of my needs first, because that´s what everyone else does, and if you don´t as well you get left behind.

Unlike many of my fellow bloggers, I don´t think this is a cultural thing. I don´t know if I am just super lucky in meeting these kinds of people all over the world, or if I attract them, or if I am a lover of misery, but this kind of thing happens to me everywhere, all the time, with everyone. The only person I know who is reliable is my boyfriend, and since he cares for me on such a different level, I´m not sure he counts as a ´normal´person.

So what is a gringa to do? Am I to stop trusting people, and always put my needs and plans first to assure my own success? Am I supposed to adopt the Chilean people filter to an extent of shutting out everyone short of those who´ve shed blood for me? I honestly don´t know. Somehow I just don´t think I can. I´m not sure I can ever stop thinking it´s me, and I´m not sure I want to stop believing in the best of people. Perhaps what I need to focus on is not becoming hurt at such actions, rather than avoiding them altogether. A lesson that keeps on giving apparently.

P.S. If you think it´s me too, please let me know ;)