I was standing in line to send a package to FedEx. As I began my transaction, I could hear the gentleman behind me express his annoyance with my number of tattoos, so much so that he asked why I had so many tattoos.
I remained quiet and attempted to continue my transaction. He repeats himself. By now, another gentleman and the women behind him seem offended by the line of questioning. The clerk also seemed tense, awaiting an explosion. I’ll admit you can feel the tension, but mainly because none of us knew how the experience would go, not even me.
He said a few more things; I’d had enough by then. As I turned to speak with bad intentions, I couldn’t think of anything. Nothing sarcastic or threatening because racing through my head so loudly was the thought, “Tell him the truth, Rob!”
I said…the tattoos are because I always feared waking up one day and not knowing who I am; I have a family history of dementia. And so I put significant parts of my life on my body. I pointed to my kids’ birthdays, my favorite scripture, and even the tattoo of scripture where I replaced the word “love” with loyalty because I didn’t know at that time unconditional love existed. I know now.
The gentleman’s face turned bright red!
His demeanor became intense. Seriously, he screamed.
Why are you saying this to me?
Completely lost by his questions, I tell him, “I’m not sure what you mean you asked.”
He pauses, gathers a breath, and explains that his wife, of 50+ years, was in the car, and sometimes she wakes up and does not know who he is. He continues that the doctors don’t believe there’s anything else they can do to help. At the very moment he began to cry, I saw it. I saw a soul that was hurting.
Here’s what I mean: His questions and behaviors weren’t directed towards me—none of it. He wasn’t even upset with me. He was overwhelmed and scared and felt alone in the fight to save his wife’s life.
By this point, all I wanted to do was help the guy.
It was so wild in real time because it was the first time I could see actions that were considered or could be described as offensive or aggressive. Still, all I kept saying to myself was that his actions made a lot of sense once I realized he was overwhelmed and losing his perceived grip on life.
We spoke for a few minutes longer, and I offered the gentleman a business card to connect and have a deeper conversation. I’d figured he just needed someone to listen to him and let him relieve some of the pressure he felt he was facing. His demeanor adjusted immediately; his face now appeared somewhat disbelieving as he asked, “You would do that for me?”
Yes, of course, I will because someone did it for me.
And that was my first experience of seeing underneath someone’s words and hearing a cry for help. The gentleman never took me up on the conversation, but reflecting on the encounter, I had a few more helpful insights that would change how I lived my life.
I realized we’re all human; we all get scared or overwhelmed.
Know that underneath, most aggressive behaviors are a cry for help.
Be kind to yourself and others when you realize you are in either of those moments.