I’m a writer, and the other night at a work party, I hit it off with the wife of a coworker of mine. Her and I got along like gangbusters.
Then, halfway through the night, after we were both pretty drunk, she confessed to me that she had proofread some of my work a few years earlier for a title I worked on. She said she felt really bad about the comments she had made (she had made some pretty snide comments when the work was returned). She said she’s quick and ruthless with her job, and that’s just how she does it, but she felt really bad after getting to know me.
I was furious and upset. The project she was referring to had caused me a lot of stress and grief (mostly NOT because of her) at the time, and it had taken me a LONG time to get over it. I was angry she had pushed it to the forefront of my thoughts again.
Stammering to rescue the conversation, lest I start balling my eyes out, I said “Your comments were nothing compared to what I got from other people on the project (which was true). You were just doing your job.” Then we did some kind of a soul-bonding moment with our pinkies or something (I can’t remember- I was totally sloshed).
At any rate, I spent half the night crying when I went to bed. I had forgiven her, but not myself. It was not a typical writing project (anything more conventional I would’ve had a much thicker skin for) and rationally I know that it’s highly unlikely anybody’s held it against me. But emotionally I still feel like an idiot and a failure when I think about it. And I try not to- I had mostly accomplished this, but now I have to work to put it behind me again.
I can’t even stop to appreciate the fact that I made a new friend. 