Infamous

The Dark Side Of Infamous Reputation.

       At a public event this weekend I was confronted once again with my past. First of all, any conversation that starts with the word "Becky" means only two things. Family who bless them, but I've been trying for 13 years to make them call me Rebecca and they get it right about 60% of the time. Or it's from a past I stepped as far away from as I could.

       So when I hear "Becky is that you? Aren't you Becky xyz and didn't you go to High school xyz??" internal warning bells and denial of existence goes into high alert syndrome.

       I stared at this woman without an ounce of recognition on my part and I had to do the unthinkable and ask, "I'm sorry, but what was your name?" To which she gave it and still, not a flicker of memory, not a slice of oh, ok, I know who you are. I had to ask the next unthinkable, "Umm did we hang out during those years?" to which she replied with a chuckle of amazement, "OH NO, we never hung out, I was scared to death of you for 2 years, I thought you were going to kick my ass."

       At this point, my confused look probably turned to a crushed mode of "I'm sorry" and thoughts of "how did I wrong this person" crept in at rapid speed. I did the humble move, asked and apologized at the same time. "I'm so sorry, what did I do to you?"

       She explained to me, that one day, between classes, as we passed in the hallway, she was certain I had given her a very cross look. Thats it. No words ever spoken, no banter or verbal fight. Just a look. Yet, with one look, and an infamous reputation, I held this gal in mental fear until I had finally graduated. I decided I couldn't really take credit for that one, I had no idea who this gal was and never had given one minute of thought to her, yet, she explained how she avoided me at all costs for 2 years.

That is, the brutal cost, of leaving an impression, good, bad, and indifferent.

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       Under the guise of compassion, I have found, I have gotten myself into a multitude of trouble over the years. Compassion, has it's beautiful side, and compassion has it's darker side.

       During the years, formerly known as Becky, I was the protector of all my friends. I discovered during those years, that just about anyone could do anything to me, and I would let it roll off my shoulders, take it with a grain of salt, and let it roll away. But just the incredible opposite, when one of my friends were in any sort of danger, specifically physical danger, from an opposing bad ass, or bully, I would come charging out of the gates fist drawn, a "If you want to hurt my friend, you'll have to get through me" attitude.

       Like turning a light bulb on and off, that was my tolerance fuse for others picking on people, especially people I cared about. It landed me in trouble a few times, most who know me can't understand how it could be possible I can claim having a battery and assault on my record, but it is true. Done and received for protecting a friend.

       I can honestly say, I never once initiated a fight, I never instigated any sort of physical or verbal exchange, I never started anything on my own accord. But I certainly finished things when I felt someone else was in over their head. Hence, the infamous reputation was formulated. Becky knew how to fight, courtesy of a Father who taught her the ropes of being tough enough to protect herself and a brother who was pure physical fighting hell.

       It took some time, for me to realize, that my friends became fully aware that I would be there to protect them, and they began to use such assurance as a green light to strut around and dredge up any type of conflict they felt like. They took my compassion and determination for protecting them, to an upper stage of friendship usage. It took time, to realize, that my desire to protect those I cared about, was used as a circus act at parties and ordinary school days. It took many factors in the equation of that stage of my life, but I eventually removed myself completely from the world of Becky and became Rebecca.

       Becky has only emerged once since then, when I was about 24 and at a downtown nightclub, I walked past a scene where 2 men were beating up a single man. Becky took over before Rebecca could explain the rational aspects of taking on 2 grown men, but Becky couldn't stand to see one man in such an out numbered position. I don't know who was more shocked, me, or the 2 men, or the man who I was trying to help. But I dove into that mess without regard to myself and emerged alittle bloody, but feeling like I did the right thing to have helped put a stop to the madness.

       The underdog, always gets my vote. I've realized, that although Becky is part of my past, she is still here. My nature has just evolved in different forms. I've realized people in my life, still know I will stick by them through those tough moments and for the most part, they do not abuse that assurance. But, there is one, who knows this part of my nature and has creatively mastered the fine art of using the damaged, helpless part of his nature to keep me as part of the circus act. It feels at time's, I am helpless to fight such antics, that the compassion in me, comes pouring out at the moments of definitive closure and I land myself back to the playing bench of the game. So many time's, I have been one foot from touchdown, closure and then, however subtle, or right in my face I buckle to the guise of either guilt or obligation.

       Just as I felt I had to protect my friends, whether I wanted to fight another person or not, I feel I am faced with the same predicaments with this person. Is it a lack of courage to do what is right for myself? A sense of obligation to the broken and deranged or just simple stupidity........Multiplicity's of relationships with other people, keep me spinning in this corridor of indecision and haze. The moments of being/wanting complete selfishness rather then compassionate seem to fog the lines between right and wrong, so often in this little space I call my life.

       Living down Becky's reputation, is something that happens once in a while, living down the reputation of Rebecca is much more complex. Most of the people who know me, know my situation, have a very difficult time understanding. It's hard to explain as simple as it may sound, that obligation and feeling sorry for someone is what keeps me positioned to the very path I don't wish to be on.