Good, as defined in the dictionary, could be directed towards the topic of ethics and moral standards. It might also be about competitiveness in a certain field of expertise. Or even aesthetics (i.e. is this article good enough for your taste?). The term is broad and the scope is wide. But I will stick with these:
Me as a person.
Me as a daughter.
Me as a friend.
Me as HIS friend.
1. I am a good person.
This is debatable. But for the sake of argument, let’s say I am not. The very concept of being a good person or not is subjective, nonetheless.
Committing wrongful acts almost always makes you a bad person in the eyes of society but then neglecting to do a simple good thing does not make you a good one, either. How does society define goodness? Does it merely entail doing good for the sick? for the homeless? the needy? Do prayers alone count? If I say to a dying kid that my prayers are with him and his or her family, does that make me a good person?
Conversely, how does society judge right from wrong? How do you?
People often mistake kind words for goodness and this is not always the case. Kindness is pure and full of love; good is just a label. And I have such a high distaste for labels. The very nature of being called a good person as opposed to being told you are kind has a distinct and separate boundary.
But even still, the question remains. Am I “good”?
- I am a good daughter.
Dubbed as the “maldita apo” aka the “mean granddaughter”, I am always the go-to person whenever qualms and quarrels arise in the cousinhood, lol. I am the pacifier. Me, being the most likely first person to get angry, that is. So, they tend not to fight when I am around. Haha. They are ‘good’ children. See what I did there?
Kidding aside, I know this for a fact. I am not a good daughter – or granddaughter for that matter. For reasons I do not want to expose, (don’t worry, they are not what your dirty mind is thinking, haha!) due to inevitable self-pity afterwards, I will just tell you that I am not. And you are left with nothing but to digest the truth that I am not indeed a good daughter.
- I am a good friend.
What do you usually respond to a person who asks this question?
“Hey, what do think of Girl A and Boy B? Are they good people?”
Do you answer with a simple, yes or no, or do go into detail and describe the person?
Do you judge someone based on how others perceive them, or on how you see them?
Being the eldest daughter, granddaughter, and cousin, in my father’s side of the family, I am always sought to by cousins for advise. Being the chatty one too, most of my friends share their problems to me also. It may seem like a compliment, but no, it is not. I do not actually like giving advices. Most of my friends know that.
You have a problem? Fine. Let’s talk.
You want someone to talk to after a boring and very tiring day? Fine. Call me.
You want to go somewhere? Fine. Invite me. I’d go with you.
But do these things make me a good friend?
No. They do not.
I may always be there when they need me but I know that being there won’t ease the pain. They would be still be suffering. They will still feel the pain tomorrow morning when they wake up. Trust me. I know.
Now onto the main dish.
- I am his good friend.
One of the reasons I started ’20 lies’ was HIM.
HIM is not a person. HIM is short for, HE ISN’T MINE. A hashtag I thought of, at the time. I never thought it would be how I will one day describe HIM. He was always ***** to me.
***** once told me I was sweet and caring. He even thanked me for it. I was shocked.
It might seem a bit immature and vain, but I seriously do not think I have one single caring genome in my being. If there are any, they have been dormant over the past 2 decades.
That may be why I cannot understand why **** told me I am sweet and caring. His affirmation of me being a good friend made me want to accept the lie.
Maybe I did change.
This lie might now be starting to become an accepted truth. I hope so.
Maybe the next time I ask myself the question,
I can say with great belief, that I am.
And so here we are…
I tell myself I am a good person because I know what the rules are and I follow them.
Or at the very least, it’s what I want you to see.
Me following the rules.
I tell myself I am a good friend because I am there for my friends when they need me. Running through red lights just to hear them rant over stupid shenanigans in life.
I tell myself I am good.
But we both know that rules, like hearts and promises, are meant to be broken.
We both know the truth.
To quote from my professor, I do not claim to be a good man but a man with good intentions.
Today’s food for thought.
If everything starts with a lie, what’s mine?
I am good.
Lie No. 2: I am good