Why is this running backwards? Taking apart the clock

Let's have a little talk about customer service and building a client base, shall we? Most of my professional life - as an archivist, as a bookseller,  figure model - is built on listening to the people I am working with, be it to help fulfill their research needs (or not), help them find the perfect book, provide a place to talk about books and our quirky shared love of ordinance maps, or to act as a conduit to the artistic  vision they are looking to fulfil. And I am good at my roles. 

But I struggle on the client-side. Not with being the client (although I can be difficult, because I am me) but with coming in contact with people who are inspiring and creative that I want to be both friends and collaborate with on projects. I have noticed that this dynamic works best when I am working with the person first - either on a commissioned project or via a work relationship, than if we start a friendship then try to transition to a work relationship.  A wise friend of mine compared it to a clock running backwards and suggested I deconstruct it. And I do love a good autopsy show. 

In this instance, the project the person and I were working on was INTENSLEY personal. Like, involved my moving my undies kind of personal.  And they commented on that, on my beautiful underwear, which I found odd. 'Of course I went through XYZ. I've seen your underwear, you dirty minx.'  And I thought that it was a bit unorthodox, but so am I and so I was like 'Oh, yeah! My underwear collection is pretty amazing. I mean...there are definitely hit-and-miss pieces, but overall, I love wearing everything in it.' 

And that was okay.  But then the words started to become more...invasive and hurtful.  I try to sit with the hurt that comes up; there is often truth under the bruising that I need to hear and certainly, the last few months have been a struggle.  I have been avoiding and have been sitting in my well, not really sure I want to climb out. I've had a lot of things conclude: my father's life, a work role I love(d), a weird mind-fudging pseudo-romantic relationship, and that takes a toll.  

But over the last 10 days, things took a twist.  I was grumpy and sad. Both of my littles were ill and being confined to the house takes a toll on everyone, as does projectile vomit.  This individual and I have a conversation about faith one day, and I share the unconventional road to how I chose to live a Jewish life, albeit on my terms. Then this person tells me a few days later, I'm not Jewish. And I have to laugh, because it reminds me of a beau in college saying there are no Jews named Christopher or Christian and all I could think was, 'Well, that's a load of horsesh*t.'  But I let it ride because what's the point? I know who I am, am learning more every day about who I am becoming, and if someone wants to say 5+9=7, the can be right, but they'll have to divide the sum by 2. And it doesn't matter in the end. I don't need their validation or acceptance. I may WANT it, but  I don't NEED it. 

On Saturday, we meet for a coffee and what I thought was going to be a mooch around an antique store and chat about the upcoming project. Traffic on the A12 means that a 15 minute drive is slightly longer and I am a bit late, but have texted to say that will be the case.  I arrive to a very sullen pixie-like creature.  'Are you okay?' She is grey and clearly not okay. 

'I'm hungover.'

'Oh, okay.' I think to myself, we could have rescheduled. Its just antiques and coffee. I almost ask if she wants to just call it a day and go rest, but its like I've come across a cornered possum and I can't easily turn around to walk away.  We talk, stiltedly, and she begins to make sexual innuendos about my standing lunch date with my Uncle (inherited in the divorce). 'What happens at these luncheons? Are you naked?' And I'm irritated at the implication, because that simply isn't the situation in this life, in this universe. And it makes me sad that is her opinion of me, of my uncle.  

There is a weird moment where this incredibly talented, vivacious, highly erratic and secretive person is forced to engage with someone who knows one of her siblings. Apparently, she is not in touch with any of her siblings. I hadn't pushed on the 'why nots' which I have to say, is remarkably restrained of me...I am usually all about the backstory, the grit. 

Then it comes to my parenting and whether my son is autistic. And how I am failing him, which is something I worry about CONSTANTLY. It is so seldom not a concern, that I almost panic if I don't have that feeling.  after he had a meltdown (not an epic one, but a definite meltdown). 'Are you lying about your son being autistic?' And I'm just floored. And confused...is he isn't Autistic enough, he isn't doing his Autism isn't authentic enough? And I feel that I need to justify the situation, provide verification.   'Do you want to see his referral and diagnosis letters?' She gets more and more agitated, I let her vent - in part, because I'm not hungover. I mean, I had a lovely, restorative swim with my kids on Friday, followed by a massage, and went to bed after saging the house, journaling and crocheting for an hour, so I was in a pretty good place.  

And it becomes a pissing contest and then I have this moment of realization that I don't have to say anything. I don't have to stay in the argument or in the relationship.  I send an email saying I'm happy to chalk up the morning to a difference of opinion, if she still wants to work on the project, we'll need to talk through the nuts and bolts, and if not, please send a final invoice and any receipts through. 

A short text exchange followed by a quick extraction from the dialogue. It clearly baffles me but I don't feel it necessary to go further, except she left paint brushes and some of them look like good brushes. So, should I send them? Definitely sage the house again, I think. And keep secure in the knowledge that the 'ships' that abide and return to our ports are the ones we need. 

https://open.spotify.com/track/11xP4Kyy82zyF9Dt0XWRrE?si=xq7bWlWhSbCC-D_nlXGoQQ&utm_source=copy-link