The Jagged Lines Of Separation

I am feeling worlds better than I was yesterday. Big girl panties on. I'm back to jumping over those big ol' piles of shit. Exhale. Last night's post reminded me of something. Remember the tidbit about not quite fitting in despite putting my best foot forward? I have a lot of those moments, however, there's one that will forever stand out.

I had the opportunity to finally meet a human who I had admired for quite some time for their dedication in the animal rescue world. We had coordinated a time to meet up. I was bursting at the seams. I wanted to have a conversation with this human. I had a few questions. I wanted to know the story behind their passion.

That afternoon we waited over an hour after our meet and greet time. We had one of our kids with us. The wait wasn't a huge issue. We were at a public event. Lots going on. Lots to see and do.

After an hour, I spotted the human. The human was accompanied by several other humans. We introduced ourselves. Shook hands. Hugged. Made small talk. Less than 5 minutes later, the humans took off to look around. About a half hour later, they returned. Less than 5 minutes later, they took off again to shop around.

About a half hour later, Lisa nudged me and pointed towards the parking lot. They were leaving. No goodbye. No conversation. No, "It was really nice to meet you." Nothing.

They. Just. Left.

I'm not going to lie. I was crushed. Despite my best poker face, Lisa knew. I had talked about meeting this human all week. I wanted them to meet one of our kids. Show them photos of our other two kids. Do the whole dog-mom-photo thing.

We do this with strangers in Walmart and Target. They're dog Moms too. It's a great time all the way around.

Shortly after, we left too. That's when I let it rip. I had my big girl panties on. I got up quick and brushed myself off. I don't stay crushed for too long.

After my rant came the pivotal moment when I realized common ground and like mindedness wasn't enough to substantiate camaraderie. We're dog Moms. We assist in rescue efforts. We foster occasionally for our local animal shelters. We spread biscuit love to shelter dogs. We raise money to purchase much needed items for local animal shelters. The list goes on.

Up until that afternoon, I thought there was a natural bond between those who shared that same passion. Bettering the lives of animals. Rescue. Fostering. Pet parents. Dog Moms. Fundraising. Etc.

Apparently there isn't.

I should know this. We've attended many events where rescue groups have been present. I see so many of these groups and organizations on Facebook. Their photos. Updates. Happy ending stories. To finally be able to see them, talk to them and meet a handful of the members in person...it's awesome! However, a handful of times, my excitement and enthusiasm wasn't met with the same.

On more than one occasion, at these events, after introducing myself, or both Lisa and I, we were greeted with a simple hello. A few seconds of small-talk. They didn't initiate conversation. When I did, to break the awkward silence, their replies were short.

It's awkward. 

On the flip end of the stick, we've met lots of like-minded people who were just as delighted to meet us as we were them. The conversation flowed and, after parting ways, I thought, "I could have talked to them all afternoon."

I could spend hours trying to decipher the jagged lines of separation. Maybe even weeks. Human nature is tricky. Even amid our world as dog Moms, we're sized up. Judged. Snubbed. Welcomed. Met with enthusiasm. Not given the time of day.

The same holds true for parents of human children. Look at all the Mommy bloggers out there. The lines that divide are evident despite their common ground of trying to get through this thing called Motherhood.

It is what it is.

I'm not always going to fit in. Human nature. Sometimes it sucks. Sometimes, like the public event I spoke of earlier, I'll be left slightly crushed. Or, just the opposite. I'll part ways dancing on the tips of my toes.

Whatever happens from the time I wake up until the time I catch a few hours of sleep, our kids think I'm pretty great. Lisa adores me. At the end of the day, that's what matters.