Who me? Snore?

“Like a bear!!!” my husband exclaimed when I, astonished, asked him to verify his claim that I’d snored heavily the night before—ALL night. When my head hits the pillow and the world is silent and my breathing is so peaceful, I drift into dreams like a baby. At least that’s my perception. I still find it hard to believe I snore. He, however, was awake, thanks to my snoring, so his perception is probably more accurate. 

Receiving feedback is like a mug of cocoa. When someone tells me I’m thoughtful or capable, for example, feedback delights my taste buds and coats my insides right down to my toes with warm comfort. When someone tells me I’m quiet by nature, feedback is room-temperature cocoa. Nothing surprising, since that mug has been sitting on my table for decades, and it’s still quite drinkable. But when someone tells me I have acted in an offensive manner—even in my sleep—it’s ice-cold cocoa on a chilly winter’s eve.

I like to hear what people really think of me, and I always hope it’s positive and warm. But I have to face the fact that sometimes I snore. Sometimes I’m judgmental. Sometimes I’m impatient and snap at people. Sometimes I just plain want things to go my way. Sometimes people will tell me I’ve stepped on their toes or hurt their feelings. Sometimes they tell me gently and in love; sometimes they are not so nice. Either way, I need to hear it, or I won’t grow as a loving human. I’m in relationships with people giving me feedback; they see and hear me in ways I can’t see and hear myself. One thing I don’t want to snore through is relationships!