polite exchanges revealed information i really didn’t ask for: he’s married, two years in the U.S., has a 7 month old, and apparently devout in his faith.
my smile and “how nice” response to his being a father prompted him to ask the double-punch question: do you have kids-are you married? a quick no-no is my usual reply, relieving both interviewer and me from emotional entanglement.
but this time, i offered more.
“no”…and, “actually, I’m going through a divorce.”
why I opened up like that, i don’t truly know. maybe it slipped. maybe it was in hopes for a sympathetic word. maybe it was the presence of the dangling cross turning the Chevvolet Cruze into a confessional.
“oh, i’m so sorry.”
there it was. sympathy.
this sincerity was followed by the question: did you marry out of love?
when affirmed, it was clear the driver had a mission, a message. in his culture, marriage is prearranged and love follows. it’s chosen and maintained. in his faith, marriage is sacred. divorce is not an option. in his view, i needed to be prayed for so that we could reconcile and remain married.
my eyes glazed over the freeway signs, the trees and buildings blurring. my heart became weighted with every word. my mind wondered: what is this?
as i closed the door to a “God bless”, my steps leading closer to the front door unlocked my grief. at the doorway, open, loving arms wrapped my sobbing self, until my spirit quieted.
with a propensity to read into most things as divine nudges, i thought more about my viceral reaction. what was it about this that upset me so much?
it was the rubbing of a healing wound. it was the overt crossing of personal boundaries. it was the religion+judgement combination that i’ve always struggled with. it was the failure story loop.
i truly believe my driver was operating from a definition of goodness and care; that he wished wellness and salvation for me.
but, the unexpected exchange left me raw and without desire to judge, rate, or allot stars to an uber evangelist.