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    30th Anniversary Blogs - Bullied for Safeguarding Volunteers!

    Today's blog is about an important series of events that became the catalyst for my blog, 'Roaming Brit.' Ten years ago, in 2015, along with my husband Darrell, I was a victim of sustained bullying, from people who worked for one of the oldest charities in the World. This period was the most distressing and abusive time in our relationship together. Even today, I still suffer from the effects of a phase, that will forever remain a part of my psyche. I will always carry the burden of torment around with me. It was quite simply an interval, a glitch, that was responsible for a change in our circumstances, that we are still living through today, despite the memories finally fading into the background.

    Bullying is something you think only occurs in childhood, but when it happens in your mid-forties, you can't believe what is actually transpiring before your very eyes. Both Darrell and I, were working alongside one another as Managers, for a large NGO on the south coast of England. Both of us thoroughly enjoyed our positions, especially working with the volunteers who worked for us. I was always taught, from an early age, to look after and protect the most vulnerable people in society. As a Manager for a charity, it was part of my remit and something I was very aware of, every day I went to work.

    You can imagine my horror, when two of Darrell's paid employees, began targeting and abusing a particularly defenseless member of his volunteer team. He naturally asked me for advice. We were both in the same positions at work and as a Manager it is something we had to deal with on rare occasions. I suggested he report it as a safeguarding issue and the HR department would do the rest. I had no reason to expect anything different. Furthermore, I felt sure the organisation would do all it could to protect, the individual concerned — how wrong I was!

    Not only did the charity do nothing to support Darrell or the victim, but those responsible started bullying Darrell as a result. From attacks on personal property, to homophobic abuse and attacks at work, the abuse was relentless. Darrell became ill, withdrawn, and his mental health became a source of concern. As someone who had worked for the charity longer than him, I decided to do what I could to help.

    Despite doing my best to intervene, I was also dealing with a safeguarding issue at my own place of work, which was also being disregarded by my boss. Later, a former colleague also began to attack me personally, and it appeared on the surface, at least, that both of us were being singled out for protecting others.

    With no support from our mutual boss, within a short space of time, we both became ill. We were advised to stay away from work, for our own health and wellbeing. Our mental health was in tatters, as we sought answers as to why nothing was being done to protect us and others. I contacted helplines and organisations who could help. I spoke with my union, ASDAW and anti bullying charities, including 'Solent Mind' based in Southampton. All of them said the same thing, we were being targeted for safeguarding others and as they dug deeper, under the surface, our sexuality was also a factor as well. I can't describe the feeling you get, when you realise you are being mistreated, for just doing the right thing. It hits you head long, like a brick in the face.

    For a year we suffered, while still trying to find answers as to why we were being ignored. Despite returning to work for a brief period, in the end, just before our wedding in 2015, we both decided to pack up, sell up and leave the UK for good. Every professional organisation we talked to, said this was the right thing to do. The sociopathic nature of what we endured, would never stop until we made the decision to walk away, from the sinister nature of mistreatment we were dealing with. It took a while, but finally, after talking to family, friends and professionals, we left for a new life in Spain.

    My last day at the charity was tinged with sadness, leaving the volunteers behind. We had built up a great rapport over the years, and they were a big part of my life. The Head of HR came in, to try to draw a line under this sorry chapter, and we both spoke candidly about just what had happened. She agreed the way I was treated was a disgrace, but said there wasn't much the charity could do, since its reputation was at stake. Despite knowing just how malevolent and malicious those involved had been towards us and many others, (We weren't the first) there was very little she could do. The primary person responsible was a known bully and abuser, and she had done this many times before.

    ​Our new life in Spain was a breath of fresh air. We had a new, strong and altruistic network of friends and colleagues and an even bigger group of Expats, who helped us begin the transition from turmoil to tranquillity. We were both as happy as we could be and loving every day again on the beautiful Costa Blanca. Smiles returned to both our faces as we finally escaped the pain we left behind.

    Despite writing about my experiences as often as I could, answering emails and messages from readers who were also suffering from bullying, we both enjoyed a happy existence in Spain. I received many cries for help over the two years I was living in Gran Alacant, even from those who actually worked at the charity I once held in such high regard. These were the hardest messages to reply to, and I just gave them the advice that was given to me — Never try to beat a sociopath, you will always fail!

    Personal tragedy ended our time in Spain all too quickly. While sat surrounded by packing boxes in the lounge of our villa in Puerto Marino, I received an unexpected call. The Charity Commission was investigating the charity I had worked for and wanted to hear my side of the story. I was finally given an opportunity to give mine and Darrell's side of the events that brought us to Spain; it was a vindication of everything we had gone through — finally someone was listening to us. 

    I never found out the results of the enquiry. However, I finally realised that many others in the UK and further afield, had also suffered at the hands of people who had no place working with vulnerable people. I was made aware that changes would take place. Although nothing could be done to save mine and Darrell's careers, we were helping the commission compile evidence, against people who were distinctly corrupt and disturbing in nature, and for that they were truly grateful.

    Since then, I haven't thought about that terrible time in 2015 too much. I do have days when the pain resurfaces, and I do suffer with severe anxiety every day, but my life is so much better now than it ever has been. In a way, the success I enjoy ten years later, is all down to the bullies who gave us such a hard time. So I suppose I should finally take the opportunity to thank them, for affording us the life we enjoy in Australia. So thank you — I hope you are also enjoying the fruits of your labour as well.

    During the 30 years we have been together, neither of us have experienced blatant bullying and abuse. As I look back over our years together, it is painful to relive such painful experiences, but it was a time that made us stronger as a couple and more aware of the ugly nature of people. Not everyone in your life is good for you, and it really is up to you to kick them into the long grass and carry on living your best life. They were terribly soul-destroying months in 2015, but without them, we wouldn't be where we are today, and for that, fate gave us a second chance and a reason to exist again.
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    Toxic People and Insomnia!


    Well, as I'm sure you are aware by now, this week's blog, is about toxic people, a subject I have plenty of knowledge about, after working for the most toxic charity in the United Kingdom, for eight, long, years. If I am perfectly honest, I am sat here exhausted and feeling particularly debilitated. No, not because of my job, but because of 'TOXIC PEOPLE' who have made my life a misery this week. I am so thankful it is the weekend right now, and I am able to recharge, after such a horrible seven days. Sometimes, I think I am too old for having opinions and speaking my mind — maybe it is time, to just settle down and live a peaceful life?

    Every Sunday, I like to blog; this is the moment I can really sit down, think about the ups and downs of the past week and finally relax. Since an altercation with several people online, I haven't been on social media and so far I don't have a desire too. To think, the way I am feeling now, is all because of a complimentary comment I made towards, a rather famous comedian, after commenting on how wonderful they looked. Usually this would be an acceptable way of expressing one's thoughts towards another human being, but because this comedian is transsexual, I have experienced a crescendo of abuse, like you wouldn't believe.

    I was attacked verbally online by a person I do not know, much else, ever met. They decided to stalk me across all my social media pages, and describe in graphic detail, how I should be strung up and publically hung in the street. This individual said plenty more that is unprintable and would go against my contract with Google, if I mentioned it today, so I won't. That person caused me enough pain and upset, without Google cancelling my account as well.

    The person in question was a Reform Party supporter; it was emblazoned across his social media page. In his words, when Reform wins the next election, people like me will be dealt with. As a gay man, who grew up in the 1970s and 80s, I am well aware of what discrimination is and feels like. Darrell and I have been discriminated against all our lives, and I really thought the World had changed. Clearly, from the tone and behaviour of this far right supporter, nothing could be further from the truth, and I still feel shocked to the core at the language he used.

    After thinking about it, I responded to his diatribe, by sharing a post about Reform. I suppose it was to make me feel better and just get the anger off my chest. I literally thought nothing more about it, until several friends also started to verbally assault me for posting it. One of those has been a friend for over thirty years, and we both are polar opposites politically, so I accept his comments, as I always did in the past. His friendship is far too important to me to do anything else.  The observations he made were neither offensive, nor over the top, and certainly didn't cause me any upset. The other guy, however, was a volunteer, who I employed whilst working for Oxfam — I have no such loyalty or attachment towards him, and am totally flabbergasted by his outburst.

    There wasn't an ounce of empathy, and he couldn't care less about my feelings. There was no understanding at all. His behaviour was pure toxicity, and I was in no mood to take any of it. I replied several times, when I decided to just block him and get on with the rest of my life. Judging by previous experience, this is the only was to deal with someone like that. 

    Trying to put this kind of thing to the back of my mind, can be difficult for an insomniac like me. Over the last few years, my sleeping patterns have gotten steadily worse. Some nights I only have 4 hours sleep, others a bit more. I sleep a maximum of six hours, and I am wide awake at 4am every day, ready to start the day. Believe me, I have tried everything to solve this, but to no avail. Today, I just live with it and hope it gets better.

    I strongly believe, my insomnia is a result of the severe anxiety I suffer with. I no longer wear my Fitbit to bed to monitor my sleep, as I believe it has made my sleep anxiety worse. I have also started to switch my phone off several hours before sleeping and make sure the bedroom is as dark as possible. Luckily, Darrell and I have a three-bedroom house and I can sleep alone when absolutely necessary, which helps us both in the long run.

    As a nervous individual I do not cope with anxiety and stress very well, so when anything happens, that upsets my wellbeing and sense of balance, I can not sleep at all. What happened this week has just tired me out. I know I should learn to ignore the haters, but I do have a voice and an opinion, which I am entitled to express. No one should try to silence anyone. I believe in mutual respect and understanding and would never attack someone for their views.

    After this blog today, offloading all the hate, I will not mention this incident again. The therapeutic nature of blogging is such, that I will never need to. I can, however, look back at this entry in a few months time and hopefully learn from the hurtful comments, growing stronger because of it. Yes, at 54 years old, I am still learning and will always continue to, until the day I die. I like to think I am better than all the hateful people in the World, especially at the moment, and look forward to a time, when we can all live together in peace and harmony once again… Until then, I guess there will be many more episodes like this, but each one is a reminder to do better, strive for more meaningful friendships and above all, rise above the fray!
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    A Poor Management Decision Or What?

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    When this happened, I felt great shame and humiliation.
     
    I took a step way outside the box when I applied for another position at work.  Gladys had decided to leave the company.  She did the job of two people so there were two positions open.  I didn’t have the qualifications to review contracts, but I did have the ability to make sure all the documentation was in place and set up projects and new customers.  I got the job and they employed a part-time lawyer to review the contracts.
     
    My boss told me that this job was my baby.  As time progressed, my job evolved into more than just setting up projects and customers and I became a glorified coordinator.  All contracts were sent to me.  If they were outside of our written contract format, I sent them out for review to the lawyer.  Otherwise I sent them for signature from both the client and from the signer in our company; found out who was going to run the project; made sure that the credit check had been done on new customers; ensured that we had all the legal documents in place including the purchase orders and continued to follow up on these things until we had them all in hand.
     
    I closed projects out in a timely manner; followed the ‘exception to the rule’ protocol; identified situations where work had started without the proper paperwork; helped set up a way to track the amount used on a blanket purchase order as well as identify situations where work started without a purchase order or where the purchase order had been exceeded.  I started to develop a way where we could track our bid estimate on a project against the actual results so that the engineers could see how accurate their bids were and make the required adjustments in future bids.
     
    I made all this visible to management and operations via a Sharepoint list.  Management liked it.  I worked closely with Sales, Operations, and the Finance Department.  I received bonuses and a lot of praise for my work.
     
    Then a year and a half later, my boss called me up.  “I wanted to tell you, before someone else told you, Gladys is coming back.  They are firing the lawyer and she will be reviewing the contracts.  The CFO didn’t want her to come as she had left the company twice, but our boss wanted her to come back because the lawyer isn’t able to look at the operational impact of the contract and so she has to do it and the turn around time is too slow”.
     
    My heart instantly lurched into my stomach.  Gladys and I are very different.  I am very detailed orientated; Gladys liked to cut corners to get things done on time and hated to have to do anything extra.  She also didn’t make the sales people accountable and would move ahead without the proper paperwork in place.  I knew this because I had often found myself in a position where a work order had to be invoiced without any pricing in place.  Gladys also hated SharePoint.  
     
    When I took on the job, I was given instructions to create different processes and to gatepost certain things; this I did.  In developing the new processes, I found out from all the departments what their needs were.  To do this, I set up meetings to discuss their requirements and develop processes that would work for everyone and with which my managers approved of.  Everyone seemed really happy or so I thought.
     
    My boss said that he would have no trouble saying something to Gladys if she didn’t follow the processes and would keep her in check even though she was going to work directly with his boss and not him.  I was really nervous about the situation but thought that if my boss would keep Gladys in line, then it would be manageable.
     
    Gladys was going to start just after Christmas.  I tried to forget about the changes that were going to happen over the Christmas period. I was on vacation over Christmas and tried to keep busy so that I didn’t have time to think.
     
    All too soon, I had to return to work and face this new dynamic.
     
    It did not start off well.
     
    Gladys didn’t want to know about the new processes.  She started doing the work that I did and I had no paper trail to know what was going on.  By the end of the week, I was told that she was going to be my boss.  Her boss said that we would make a good team.
     
    It had taken me a long time to get the confidence of my colleagues. Gladys had been well liked.  I didn’t do things the same way as Gladys did.  I was firm in keeping the processes as I had been requested to do.  The processes kept people accountable.
     
    Gladys started to run me down in emails to colleagues saying that I didn’t know what I was doing; she wouldn’t follow the processes; she told me that Sharepoint sucked.  
     
    She and I were duplicating the work and it was annoying the departments.  I lost my authority as everyone paid more attention to what she said than following the processes.
     
    She called me up and asked me to talk to her about the friction that I was feeling.  As I started to explain the processes, she talked over me and yelled at me to shut up.  ‘Who the hell do you think you are?’  She yelled.
     
    I realized that this was not going to work; she was now in charge of my baby.  I was being put back into a position of being ‘just a processor’; to take orders. I rang her boss up and said that this was not going to work.  She said that she was aware that there was a problem going on and had an idea about another position for me.  She just had to get permission from the CFO and HR before offering it to me.
     
    She received permission and I was offered a job as the Sales Tax Accountant.  She asked me to attack the job with my usual enthusiasm.  I can’t say that I was very motivated;  I was humiliated by the whole situation.  I was embarrassed; I was grieving a job that I had enjoyed so much and had put so much effort into.  I wondered what I had done wrong.  I knew of no other way to handle the situation; I had felt powerless.
     
    I was now in a corner.  I was being trained to do sales tax by a bully who was very controlling, wouldn’t answer my questions, wanted me to do things by rote rather than by understanding, put me down all the time, criticized me, talked down to me and demoralized me.  I was now on a team that was reactive rather than proactive and didn’t want new ideas or any contribution to improve processes.  I was also in a situation where I was micro managed.
     
    I totally understood why the company needed Gladys’ expertise.  However, bringing Gladys back totally ruined my career.  I was surprised that they created a new position for me.  The whole situation left me very confused for over a year.
     
    I am finally over my grief.  I keep my head down.  Do my job.  Don’t interact much with anyone.  My writing now provides the creative outlet that I had in my previous jobs.
     
    However, I still wonder, as I did throughout the grieving process, whether the whole idea to bring Gladys back again and the way it was handled, was a poor decision by management or what?  
     
    What are your thoughts?
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    Bread and All Its Terror!

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    This is a little more painful to write about; fast forward one more year. I am now a third year senior at Fareham Park Comprehensive School, which now has some newer buildings. The dance and drama studio is built. The music rooms are ready to go. The gym is built. We have an all weather pitch, a track, tennis courts and many more facilities for physical education. We have a building for art, woodwork, metal work, sewing and home economics. A far cry from the one building and a couple of modular classrooms that we had two years earlier.

    Now that we have a home economics room, we have cooking on the schedule. This is definitely not fun for me.

    The time that stands out most is the day that we made bread. I have little recall of anything else so I assume this is the one time that we cooked and the rest was book work, but I could be very wrong there.

    A prelude to the bread story are the images of crowded hallways and stairwells where all the students of the school were changing classrooms, using the toilets, getting stuff out of their lockers. The stairs in particular were a source of consternation. Those girls would wait for me at the top of the stairs, As soon as I started on my way down, they would home in behind me and start to push me down, all the time laughing their heads off. It was hard to keep upright and not slip. I hated it. I had no idea what to do to help myself and to get out of the situation. It may only seem like a little thing, but I felt helpless. There were no teachers around.
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    These girls were in my tutor group and they were also in my cooking class. Cooking became a big nightmare. There the girls would use wooden spoons to hit me when the teacher wasn’t around. They would laugh in a mocking way. Any type of reaction exasperated the issue. I felt stymied; powerless. So it was in this atmosphere that we had to make bread.
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    There are just a few things that I remember about this bread-making activity. I remember the mixing bowl. I remember the yeast. This wasn’t dry yeast. This was fresh yeast. I remember that it looked dark and grey and pretty gross. We had to add it to our flour and use our hands to mix the dough mixture together. Then we had to knead it until the yeast was all absorbed.

    As I write this with an adult's perspective, something feels off about that yeast. So I read around and now understand that fresh yeast should look firm and moist, cream-colored and cool to the touch. If it is crumbly, dryish and dark in places it is stale. Apparently to use it, it must be added to liquid and mixed into the dough straight away. Here is what I also found on the internet concerning fresh yeast and the processes to activate it:

    https://m.wikihow.com/Activate-Fresh-Yeast

    In this article it demonstrated that yeast needs to be broken up into smaller parts. I was told to put my yeast and water straight into the bowl. I don’t remember it frothing up. The teacher was hurrying us along. I was taking longer than the others - not a natural cook, I’m afraid. I was kneading away. The yeast was not becoming absorbed into the dough.

    I think the teacher was pretty frustrated with me. She didn't listen to my explanation that the yeast was not amalgamating with the dough but she did come and help knead the dough and got it into the pan.

    At last the lesson was over. What a relief. My bread looked really pretty. Despite the events of the day and the ongoing bullying, I was pretty chuffed with my cooking success.

    At home, I was so excited as we were going to eat it as an accompaniment to our dinner that evening. I eagerly watched as my mum cut into the loaf.
    “Eww! Yuck!” My Mum exclaimed as she cut the loaf in half.
    My heart sank. “What’s wrong?” I mumbled.
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    “Look!” She said. She turned around from the kitchen cabinet where she was cutting, holding the two halves of the bread in her hands. I looked. Inside each half of the loaf there sat a dark gray piece of yeast. My mum started to laugh. I let her know how I had trouble mixing that yeast into the dough and how the teacher had helped me. I then laughed with my mum although my insides were empty.

    When I could, I left the room and went upstairs to my bedroom where I closed the door and cried.

    My daughter is a master bread maker. She makes the most gorgeous and succulent bread. Her favourite receipe is found at:

    https://weareeating.blogspot.com/2008/01/whole-wheat-bread.html?m=0

    Here is the receipe that my friend gave me a few years back. I usually use this one when I make bread now:
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    Bread

    Ingredients:
    10 cups whole white wheat flour;
    2/3 cup honey;
    6 cups of water;
    2 tbsp yeast (dried!);
    2 tbsp salt:
    3/4 cup oil;
    2-3 tsp gluten;
    2 tsp lecithin.
    Optional: 1/2 to 1 cup ground flax seed substituted for 1 cup whole wheat flour.
    Method:
    I usually use a bread maker these days. I adapt the quantities of the ingredients accordingly (I do like to add the ground flax also) and follow the instructions of my bread maker.

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    Gossip or Pride?

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    During a trip back to Minnesota last year for training on my new job, my trainer whispered conspiratorially, that she thought our manager gave her work, she believed  her manager should do.  “I’m not the one who has to write the reports”, she said.  Earlier in the day, she had spoken to me not so quietly, that the previous payroll person was just awful at the job.  “I always had to correct him”, she exclaimed.  “He just couldn’t do it.  I had to keep telling him the same thing over and over again!”  She also told me that the new payroll person, wasn’t picking up the role as quickly as her past experience indicated she could.
     
    I didn’t respond to any of her comments; I should have come back with something a lot stronger than silence; my mind wasn’t so quiet.  I knew the previous payroll person;  He had left the company because of the way my trainer had treated him for the past eighteen months.  She had been demoralizing him and criticizing him constantly; in a state of anguish, he finally resigned.  He had told me that he really liked the company and the other people that he worked with, but just couldn’t take any more from our trainer. She had made his life unbearable and caused him so much stress and degradation.  I was quite astounded that she would also say something about her manager; I believed they were pretty cozy.
     
    I learned a long time ago when I lived in Climping (outside of Littlehampton in West Sussex) never to believe what another person tells me about someone else.  I was serving in a church leadership position and needed to find someone to oversee the homemaking meeting for the ladies at church. I felt inspired to suggest a particular lady’s name; I will call her Lynn although this is not her real name.  Lynn accepted the call to serve as the Homemaking Leader and I worked closely with her.  When she was called, I was approached several times about Lynn, with people telling me to be careful as she was a terrible gossip and very unreliable.  This information did affect my relationship with her at the beginning.  However, I learned very quickly that she was not like that.  She was such a sweet lady and would do anything for anyone; she also never talked badly about anyone in my presence.  After this specific learning experience, I vowed that I would make my own mind up about people and not listen to what others say.

    On that trip to Minnesota, I had been working twelve hour days without a break.  The day before I flew back home, I took a lunch break for an hour with one of my friends from work, who had been brought into town at the same time.  It was nice chatting with her and catching up with each other’s news.  When I got back to my desk, I grabbed some papers that I wanted to scan in, so I had access to them when I got back to Utah. Whilst I was at the photocopier, I heard my trainer say to my manager in a surreptitious manner, “She’s back!”  That just confirmed to me that the trainer was also talking behind my back, in a derogatory way, as she had done about our manager and the two payroll people.
     
    This behaviour is a good example of duplicity - when a person talks about somebody who isn't present, in a critical and demeaning way - but wouldn’t dream of saying the same things to the person if they were there.  It is guaranteed that an individual who exhibits this type of behaviour with you, will be saying things about your weaknesses or other untruths to someone else, when you are not there; this is the opposite of integrity.  Having integrity means being loyal to those who are not present.  In these types of situations, one should defend those who are absent.  When you defend these people, you build trust with them.  My husband is a very good example of this.  Him and his first wife are divorced but he never says a bad word about her; he never runs her down.  I know that he will never talk badly about me to someone else, even if we have had a disagreement.
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    In an earlier post, I talked about the acronym of ‘HARD’.  This stands for:
     
    Honest
    Appropriate
    Respectful
    Direct
     
    I spoke about how it was hard for me to be ‘Honest’ and ‘Direct’.  I particularly find confrontation and speaking about my feelings difficult.  This amounts to dishonesty as I am not being honest due to omission; it also leads to being just like my trainer.  I won’t tell the person that I’m upset with them, but I will vent to my husband or a close friend.  I do not see much difference between that and the behaviour of my trainer.
     
    I am a great fan of Stephen R. Covey and reading his book ‘The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People,’ about sixteen years ago really helped me put all of the pieces of the puzzle together.  He says in this book that ‘Integrity includes but goes beyond honest. Honesty is telling the truth - that is to say, conforming our words to reality.  Integrity is conforming reality to our words - namely, keeping promises and fulfilling expectations’.  He further extrapolated “Integrity  also means avoiding any communication that is deceptive, full of guile, or beneath the dignity of people. ‘A lie is any communication with intent to deceive,’ according to one definition of the word.  Whether we disseminate with words or behaviour, if we have integrity, our intent cannot be to deceive.” (Pg 195 and 197).
     
    Instead of remaining silent when my trainer was sharing information about my manager and the payroll personnel, there is an alternative choice.  Stephen Covey puts it like this: ‘... Suppose you were to start criticizing your supervisor and I basically told you that I agree with the content of some of the criticism and suggest that the two of you go directly to him and make an effective presentation, on how things might be improved.  Then how would you know, what I would do, if someone were to criticize you to me behind your back?”  This is something for me to seriously consider doing when these circumstances present themselves again.  That way I will be ‘honest’ and ‘direct’.  This will take great courage but it will help me to be congruent with myself.  This is what I need to aim for.
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    It is easier to take the course of least resistance: to belittle, to criticize, to betray confidences, to gossip about others behind their back.  This is also a form of pride.  One form of pride manifests itself when one seeks to build oneself up by pulling another down.  Belittling, criticizing and gossiping function to knock the person it is aimed at down; at the same time aggrandizing the perpetrator.  Pride is really destructive and possessing, it is the means of destroying an individual, a family, and a society.  When one is seeking to build oneself up at the expense of another there is no respect for the other person; there is no love.  Stepping all over someone to gain respect or success is detrimental and self-sabotaging.  How can one trust a person who does this?  
     
    The way in which you treat a person says a lot about you.  It shows whether you can be trusted or not.  What I learned from my parents was to have values and to make choices in my life based on principles.  When I interact with any people, I need to do so by maintaining the same set of principles across the board; I wish to be a person who has integrity.  There are some cracks in my armour as I have just discussed and my goal is to close up these weaknesses by learning to be honest and direct with those that I associate with.  It is a work in progress, but the most important thing is to be moving in the right direction.

                              apenelopewren@gmail.com

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