Mental Messages: Just Don't Cross Me

I was once told by a new friend.  "I'm nice until you cross me."

I found that interesting at the time and approximately 25 years later, I still think about what that means to both the person who said it and to the person that hears it.  Perhaps in a backward way, she was letting me--and whoever else she'd ever said that to--know that she was not to be trifled with-that she was one bad you-know-what.  In my late teens and early 20s--for some reason--it was OK that she'd said that.  I could catalog this information and just not cross her.  Besides, at that tender age, I'd never had opportunity to cross anyone.

However, always in the back of my mind was the thought:

But what if I did?

Would she hurt me?  Kill me?  Embarass me?  Over the years, I've heard this phrase many times.  Maybe it was worded a little different, but in the end, I was told the same thing:

Just don't make me angry.

It has become less and less OK and more and more a sign that there is something waiting in this person to eat me alive if I do something to wrong them.  In my later years, I avoid people that act like they might turn on me if I make them unhappy or worse yet, angry.  I don't know the right words, but the feeling I get from someone who is convinced that no one should ever displease them--no matter what--is not comforting, it's unsettling--it's crazy, if you will.  It means that if in some way even by accident I make this person uncomfortable or bring them unhappiness, I might become a victim of any varying degree of backlash.

I remember a few years ago, I accidently--what I will categorize as--upset someone.  I'd befriended one of the four women where I worked.  I was new at the time.  The lines of authority ran more along a line of gender than a line of administration or even seniority.  Women, regardless of their jobs were grouped together in an embarassing type of man-worshipping modern-day harem doing everything the men didn't like to do and the men, well, they just kind of did whatever there wasn't enough women to appoint the job to.  She and I managed adjoining offices.  She did all the bookkeeping/payroll/melting pot crap jobs.  I was the first woman hired there that actually brought a experience and somewhat of an education.  I brought five years of experience in the auto industry, some college and a sharp mind to the table.  She, well, she was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but she was a "nice" person and she'd carved a niche in this place and preceeded me by five years.

Don't get me wrong, we stayed busy, but during those down times we talked.  I was probably too truthful and I later found she was not truthful enough because somewhere along the way, she decided that she was higher up the female food chain because she'd been there longer than me and whatever reason she could think of.  Mix in a little jealousy because I worked with the men more than the others and it finally reared its nasty head when she informed me--in passing--that she had the right to tell me what to do.  Then made sure that one of the men let me know as well.  She also made sure all the men knew.

I told her it was "OK, I thought we could still be friends."

Well, that "hurt her feelings" because she let me know in a short, but very angry lecture.  I could not understand how a catch-all secretary/bookkeeper/payroll person could decide or even arrive at the conclusion she could tell me what to do, but it felt like elementary school all over again when I just wanted to let her know that regardless of what the she or the men decided, I'd still like to be friends.

She somehow took offense at that.  I thought to myself:  Even though she was appointing herself in authority over me and even going to lengths to have a man tell me, I still wanted to try to be friends.  I enjoyed our moments of communication so I let her lecture me with her eyes all ablaze with anger and I felt sorry for her--so sorry for her.  She flew into my office and let me have it.  Now when I see her three years after leaving the company I am nice, I listen to her talk about her kids that are now less kids than they were three years ago, but still struggling with the same problems, and I still feel sorry for her because she really is a nice person--just don't cross her.  I'd hate it if someone felt that way about me.