Tired

I was at a concert last night, talking to a guy who was a few years older than me.  We were covering the basics of small talk when you don't know someone, but you talk to them at a party because the only person you know is busy talking to someone else.  

We were talking about the Marriott school and our respective majors.  He found out I had done the strategy program and said, "Wow, you must be a smart little girl." 

Hmm.  Yes, a smart little girl who loves to hear this at parties when she is 23 and talking to someone barely older than her.  

I do my best to ignore these comments.  I listen to the wise people around me who remind me that not all men are like this (they're right).  I try to remember that getting angry at something like this isn't the best option because it's not their fault that some men don't get it (also right).  I remind myself that where there is anger, look for the hurt (something my mom has told me and that I never forget).  

All of these things are correct and good and right, and yet?  I can't help but feel the hum of this statement throughout my day.  

I can't convey how much I wish these type of things didn't bug me.  I want to be the chill girl.  I want to be low maintenance and fine with things and remember that some people say things they don't mean, or they haven't had the chance to truly understand why something like that is offensive.  I want to be understanding that small comments like this shouldn't be blown out of proportion.  I want to be ok with understanding that sometimes things are said in moments of insecurity.  I want to be ok with the fact that I make people nervous, or I might be intimidating.  I want to have grace for people that hurt me, known and unknown.  

But what I really don't want is in twenty five years, if I'm lucky enough to have a daughter, that at a party some guy calls her a smart little girl because she did a hard major.  I don't want my son to be chatting with a girl and make a comment that she can't stop thinking because it makes her want to cry from exhaustion and rage.  

I'm tired of people saying things that hurt, and I'm tired of being told to not let those things bug me.  I'm tired of trying to be a girl who doesn't feel things or goes with the flow because it might make me more likable.  I don't want to be liked because I am good to go with whatever.  I'm not sure how to find the balance between justice and mercy, and I've never claimed to understand how God walks that line.  

I don't know how to handle the rage I feel.  I'm exhausted with trying to pretend it doesn't frustrate me.  I'm tired of screaming into a void, knowing the only echos coming back are the reminders to not be an irrational, man-hater because some guy said a comment at a party.  

This type of microaggression is just that--micro.  I feel a certain depth of guilt for even spending time on comments like these because they happen all of the time, and in this world of turmoil, this is what is pulling me under?  

And my mom is right: where there is anger, look for the hurt.  I've typed this all up with a lump in my throat and a desire to cry because I am so freaking tired.  And unfortunately, the gist of those whole post is mostly to tell someone that it hurt.  And I'm mad.  And I'm tired of pretending I'm not hurt and mad.