Echo in NYC

Musing into the void

Didn’t Mean It

“Hey, I hope you know I didn’t mean it.”

Well gee, thanks.

I’m tired. Tired of hearing the same refrain when people screw up. Tired of having to reassure people that no, of course it’s okay, no I’m fine.

“Look, he’s not familiar with this stuff, he’s not a bad guy.”

Are they ever?

One of the side effects of existing outside social norms is that I get people screwing up around me. A lot. And just to be clear: that’s okay! People do that, heck I do that! The number of times I accidentally misgender myself is hysterical, honestly.

And one of the things I hear when someone does screw up is how they must defend themselves as a Good Person™, and explain that no they didn’t mean it and they were just ignorant/confused/forgot/Tuesday.

“There was no ill intent, I hope you know that.”

I do, but does it matter?

And people do that, and it’s okay. But… people put that before they actually apologize. They make it about them. They put aside any hurt they caused to defend themselves first.

And that? That’s not okay. That doesn’t make it better. That doesn’t make me feel better.

Good people are not good because they don’t mean it.

Good people are not good because they don’t mean it. Good people are good because they want to own and fix their mistakes.

Accidents can hurt just as badly as malice, and one or the other doesn’t make that hurt go away. And making it about yourself just makes that hurt worse.

I’m tired. I’m tired that I’m in a world that constantly misunderstands and erases me I’m forced to salve the wounds of those that cut me before I can stop my own bleeding.

I don’t think this blog post will fix anything, but maybe it will reach some receptive ears. Or maybe not.

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