Second (third, fourth...) chances

When it comes to second chances, there is definitely more than one school of thought. On one end of the spectrum, there are those individuals who abide by the rigid “no second chance” rule for no one, under no circumstances. On the other end, there are those who are regularly taken advantage of because they keep on giving second (third, fourth...) chances to just about everyone and their dog.

The barometer by which we gauge whether an individual deserves another kick at the can varies according to our values, our beliefs, our experiences, and our baggage. Another consideration we usually factor in is who the person happens to be in our own private universe and what they mean to us. After all, second chances are a precious gift.

I have recently been both the giver and recipient of such a gift.

Giving... A family member and I were on the outs for a number of months. The (sad) truth is that, during those months, I had no idea what was the root cause of the situation we were in. Reaching out was attempted to find a resolution. Communication was not responded to and ill informed theories began to germinate. Soon, the theories were running rampant like Japanese knotweed. When the unraveling came, it was both immensely painful and downright ludicrous.

Regardless, I chose to forgive, move on and offer another chance. Doing so was a choice, knowing full well the person may not change but also knowing my tolerance to such inane behaviour may change in time. My choice was about accepting them for who they are, and knowing they are doing the best they can with the resources they have. But, it’s also about knowing how to protect myself by not internalizing a similar situation in the future. Knotweed, you have been warned.

Receiving... A number of new people came into my life over the last two years, some with more staying power than others. Among them, one individual left their mark in a significant way. Our dynamic was not that of equals. I found myself attempting to become a contortionist to fit explicit and implicit expectations only to find out that I don't belong in the Cirque du Soleil. The lashing out went both ways. All sorts of ugliness ensued. Grown ups behaving poorly. The experience deeply rattled me.

It took some time but I acknowledged my role in the dynamic. It’s impossible to mesh with everyone we meet, no matter how much we would like to. Fortunately, some individuals are kind enough to offer second chances to either find a path forward or to bring closure. 

Both outcomes are worthy of gratitude.