there are eight versions to one story

 
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don´t believe everything you hear

As I was preparing to start my University in Mexico, my family and I had a splendid summer in this small little town in Spain. That Summer, my sister and I met one of our best friends for life as he was part of this wonderful, truly interesting and fun group of friends who shared a fantastic Summer with us. As expected, the love bug of summer got the best of us. That summer I met a tall and handsome boy who caught my eye and we ended up hanging out the whole summer. We hung out and spoke about life for hours in company of our other friends and a crisp breeze of fresh air every afternoon.  Little I knew that the handsome and tall boy had fervent admirers who were crushed to know that we had fostered a great friendship.

At the end of the summer, I traveled to the United States to visit my friends  before embarking into my College experience. When I returned back to Mexico, I learned that there was an urban legend circulating in the small little town were we had spent our summer starring the tall and handsome boy and myself. The legend said that we  had been more than friends and that I had traveled to the States because I was “allegedly” pregnant - honestly,  we hadn’t even kissed.  I was very young and with much pride and this deeply affected me. I asked my poor mother to helped me clear this nonsense that “I was not pregnant and I was not in the States”  As I look back I think that in all reality, I have much to thank them for. That was the moment I questioned every story I had believed in my life because someone told me and the veracity of those stories.

This juvenile story did shape the way I saw life after this event, I knew better than to just believe any story that the winds would bring to my ears. I learned that everyone has a version of life that is shaped by all sorts of things, from innocent and authentic to not so much: perspectives, secret agendas, patterns and behaviors, interpretation or misinterpretation of events, self interests and so on.  More than this “Dangerous Liaisons” episode of my own life, I did learn that “rumorology does exist” and it is our responsibility to recognize it. This story gave me the grounds to understand the meaning of the phrase “truth is in the eye of the beholder.” I learned never to believe or take as a fact everything that people shares with me especially if it involves others.

Later in life I also had the opportunity to be friends with a girl who was a hostess in a famous lounge bar where I lived. It was interesting to her to see how people’s perception changed depending on whether they were spectators or part of the scene.  If there was a group of girls having fun for example, with more than a few drinks in them and you did not know who they were, you might see them from afar and judge them saying: look at those girls, what a shame. But if your best friend came to the bar with a story about her boyfriend cheating on her and both of you had more than a few too many drinks, then the scene was completely justifiable.  

I truly thank these experiences in my life for teaching me to refrain from judgement that stories have a lot of different versions and that it is my responsibility to acknowledge that.  In addition, I make a point to remember that everyone is fighting a battle that I know nothing about, and that humans have the capacity and ability to be the very same thing they criticize.  Also, that if you don’t have anything nice to say, it’s better to keep it to yourself, but that’s a lesson I learned from Bambi. All funny stories aside, in our family there are generally 8 versions of a story and we try to keep an open mind to avoid harsh judgement, provide additional perspectives while we strive to support each other as the Modern Rule dictates.