You know…that sad old *whoa is me* song you’ve been singing for awhile now. That person, place, thing, job, event, issue that did you wrong song. Ya, that song.

That!! You know what I’m talking about. Why are you still going on and on about it though? That’s what I wanna know.

You talk about it with every person you run into. You rehash that *horrible* thing they did to you. “Can you believe he/she/they did THAT to ME??” I gasp. Oh, the horror. I can’t even imagine that happening. Wait, when did that happen? 3 years ago you say?

Why are you still talking about it? Why are you still singing that sad song?

The terrible deed.

Let’s play a game. The “John” did me wrong game. You and John were together for a long time and it ended a few years ago. It’s done and over with. He was horrible. He did shitty things to you but that last thing he did to you was REALLY shitty.

(That one is going down in the history books and we’re gonna keep talking about that one ’til we die.)

I get that what he did was really bad. Trust me, I totally get it. I had a “John” once or twice too (well that came out wrong). Haven’t we all had really bad things done to us by others? Of course, we have.

Each and every one of us have had terrible things done to us. We all know pain, hurt, betrayal, defeat. Yup, we do.

Can we talk?

You want to talk about the shitty thing that happened to you. Why not? Every one needs to hear about how bad it was and how much of  a douchebag (you must know by now that’s one of my favourite words, no?) “John” was/is. Talking about it gets it off our chest, makes us feel powerful (somehow, though I haven’t quite figured out that power yet) and puts us in that wonderful bracket of *victims*.

We want everyone to say “omg poor you!!”. We do!! We want all the sympathy in the world. We want people to know we were seriously hard done by and that guy, John, well what an asshole he is!!!

We just want to keep talking about it dammit. We LIKE this sad old song. Dammit.

But…..

Ya, you knew that was coming. The ….but….why do you still talk and whine and complain about this? I mean, my God, it happened years ago. When are you going to let it rest? Why is it necessary to keep bringing it up? And why, oh why, do you think we want to keep hearing about it?

But….how is rehashing this old wound serving any purpose?

But…what pleasure, happiness or joy do you get from talking about this over and over?

But…what power, if any, are you getting from bringing this up all the time?

But…just why? And aren’t you done listening to yourself? I mean, can you hear yourself?

It’s old. The story is old. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you…

but….ya, it’s old.

I have a secret for you.

I used to be that person. Yup. I was. I sang the old *Whoa is Me Blues* all the fucking time. Oh how pathetic I must have sounded. Day in and day out. I was hopeless, it was brutal.

He did this, they did that, she said this to me, omg how mean they all were to me and can you believe he did THAT to me? Oh ya, it was sad. And pathetic. How do I even still have any friends is anyone’s guess. Didn’t they get sick of listening to me?

Of course they did. But…they were my friends and just said “Oh girl, how terrible” and “What an asshole!!” and “You don’t deserve that at all!”.

I know, right??

But…I wish one of them would have said, “Omg Iva will you just shut the hell up about it already?” Iva…just….shut…up!!!

And then one day it happened…

No one did though. No one told me to shut up. As my friends, they let me go on and on about it. And then one day, after listening to myself tell that horrible story again, I was thinking to myself *girl, really, what’s the point? Are you done yet?*

Can we start telling a different story? How about we start telling the story about how we triumphed over evil and were victorious and our life is SO much happier and better now?

How about we start telling the “if I can do this so can you” story and maybe start helping others.

How about we start sharing stories of love after hurt, freedom after chains, success after struggle, victory after defeat?

Why don’t we start telling happier stories and leave all those sad miserable hurtful disgusting *hedidmeSOwrong* stories behind us?

 And so it was…

and so I did. I changed my story. I changed the story from victim and *poor me* to victory and *you can do this too*. I actually dropped the story altogether. One day I just got so sick of the fucking story. I stopped telling the sad stories and my whole life changed.

Funny how that happens.

My whole life changed. I was happier, lighter and freer. So much freer. I didn’t have this dead weight on my shoulders anymore. There was nothing dragging me down. I was singing happy songs all the time and it was beautiful. Life suddenly became beautiful. And so did I.

Are you still singing that same old *harddoneby* song? Change your tune, change your life. Trust me on this one.

Hey DJ how about a techno club mix?

Peace and Love

Iva

Written by Iva Ursano

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