Changing Room (Changes)

 As a minister, I have counseled many a tearful, heartbroken soul. Those to whom I gave advice usually took it and wound up in a better situation. My favorite of such encounters, though, took place in a Nordstrom’s changing room.

I had picked out three cute little numbers and took them to the back to try them on. I had just slinked my way into a silk sheath when I heard somebody else come in and take the booth beside mine. A few minutes later, I heard her break down crying.

Maybe the dress didn’t fit or something, I thought, but started wondering what was really going on when she didn’t stop.

I try to be a compassionate person, so I tapped on the thin wall between us. “Hey. Are you okay?”

There was a sniffle. Then: “No. No, I’m not okay. I don’t know if I’ll ever be okay again.” And she resumed sobbing.

“What’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?”

“I’d rather not talk about it,” she said in a voice choked with tears. “And I’m pretty sure you can’t help.”

I sat there, listening to her crying like her heart had broken into pieces, for another five minutes. I hate the sound of somebody crying. It means they’re suffering, and the heart of compassion is to ease the suffering of others. I tried again.

“What’s your name?” I asked as gently as I could.

“Jasmine, as if it matters,” she said around those hiccup sounds between sobs.

“I’m Victoria. You can call me Vicki. I’m an ordained minister, so it’s kind of my job to help people,” I told her. “Why are you crying, Jasmine?”

“Because nobody loves me,” she declared. “Nobody ever will, and it’s all my fault!”

She was doing that ugly cry, the kind that messes up your face but you don’t care because you hurt too much inside to give a shit what’s going on outside. There was so much pain coming out in her heartwrenching voice, I felt I had to do my best to help her deal with this crisis she was experiencing.

“What makes you think nobody loves you?” I asked. “And why would it be your fault?”
“I drive people away, that’s why it’s my fault. I pull back and don’t let anyone get too close. So nobody knows that I love them, so they…don’t…love...me!” The tears started flowing again.

“Do you know why you have such a hard time trusting people? I know, when I was doing exactly what you are doing, that I was afraid they would abandon me, so I tried not to let them get too close. I didn’t want it to hurt when they rejected me.”

“Why do I trust you, anyway? I’ve never talked to anyone like this.”

“Because you don’t know me. You have no vested interest in my opinion, since we’re never going to see each other again. I’m anonymous, and therefore safe.”

“Are you a shrink, too? You talk like a shrink.”

“I don’t have a doctorate in anything, but I have counseled a lot of people in my time, and seeing the world through so many different lenses gives you some profound perspective.”

“I bet you won’t have any useful advice for me,” she said, still sounding like she was holding back more tears.

“Like Dorothy said about the Wizard’s magic bag. But I have spoken with the heartbroken before. What happened?”

“The short answer is that my best friend is marrying my lifelong crush and it’s because I never said a damned thing to either one of them about it and I promised her I would be there but I don’t want to do something stupid and ruin her special day!” This all came out in a rush.

That was the short answer? “What’s the long answer? It’s not like we’re paying by the hour in here.”

Her sobs had stopped and her voice had become more steady. “When I was seven, there was this boy I liked. Kaleb. I kept liking him, all the way through high school. I was afraid to tell him, because I wasn’t the prettiest girl in school and I knew he would reject me. I also had a best friend, Lisa, who probably was the prettiest girl in school. I don’t even know why she hung out with me, since a lot of other people liked her, too. But we spent lots of time together.

“After high school, we didn’t really stay in touch. Then, out of the blue, she tells me she’s getting married and wants me to be there for old time’s sake. I ask her who the lucky fellow is, and it turns out to be Kaleb!”

“And it feels like a betrayal, doesn’t it, Jasmine? Even though neither of them ever knew how you felt.” It was a statement more than a question.

“It does, Vicki,” she confessed. “Now I have to go smile and cry for the right reasons and congratulate the newlyweds and feel like a total hypocrite the whole time. A miserable, lonely hypocrite that will die alone surrounded by cats.”

“Sounds like you’ve really got your life figured out,” I said, “but if you know where the problem comes from, maybe you can address it and move beyond it.”

“Why are you even talking to me? You could have just ignored me and went about your business.”

“Like I said, I’m a pastor. I cannot just walk blindly by as a person is suffering some kind of crisis. I can’t ignore somebody who’s crying. I just can’t.”

“Well, Pastor Vicki, what do you suggest? I’m pretty sure my trust issues won’t go away with prayer and wishful thinking.”

“You should find a good therapist,” I said immediately. “You need to talk to somebody like this, but a person who is getting paid to listen to you and give you a safe space to express yourself.”

“Is this what it’s like in a confessional?” she asked me.

“I have no idea. I’m not that kind of pastor,” I replied. “I’m ordained, but I act more as a philosopher and counselor. I help people get through rough times in their lives and offer moral guidance when asked. I write essays about important thoughts and ideas. I don’t preach, I teach.”

“Do you think I should go to the wedding? I don’t know if I can stand seeing him so happy with her.”

“I taught a lesson once on inner peace. You create Serenity inside yourself. You can choose to remain calm and accept what happens with grace. If you made a promise, you should keep that promise. Gather yourself and prepare to respond to their happiness with hugs and smiles. If you truly love them both, you will celebrate their joy even as you mourn your private loss. You will find another, perhaps one that will come to you with love in their eyes. For now, though, you must give yourself a chance to be kind.”

“Thank you,” there were still tears in her voice, but she sounded calm now. “I’m glad I chose this booth.”

“So am I. Everyone needs counsel now and then. It was an honor to provide what I could to you,” I replied.

“Bless you, Pastor Vicki.”

“Bless you, Jasmine.”