Knowledge Is Power

I belonged to a group a few years ago. We met for a common purpose, and we would occasionally go for dinner together. The last time we met, one of women went around and told each of us how much she loved us, one by one, what we provided in our friendship. She got to me and told me it was because of my ability to always have information. After she had just told the other women how wonderful they were, how much she appreciated their kindness, and their support, and how amazing they are. Me: I’m a dictionary.

It’s bugged me every single day since then. I am not kind, or sensitive or supportive. I just know things.

But I’ve been thinking and I know that the reason I’m addicted to that information is because that was what my dad respected. And I’m doing the same thing to the kids. I don’t know how to not do it. I need to stop worshipping knowledge. But… well that’s how our family is.

I don’t know, I’m just down about it because another friend just told me that I’m good for this sort of thing.

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