Week 12: Sensitivity and Pizza

I’ve been thinking a lot about sensitivity lately because of something that happened about a week and a half ago. Time for a story:

            I was sitting in the living room reading when I heard the doorbell ring followed by our dogs barking wildly. I was the only one of the seven people in the house on the lower level, so I had to get the door. After throwing the dogs out into our fenced yard, I went to open the door and I immediately apologized to the guy waiting on the front step for the insanity of my loyal “guard dogs”. Before I finished my apology, the guy at the door, who I recognized as a neighbor from across the street, said “You should put your recycling in bags next time.”

            His arms were filled with the contents of our recycling bin: water jugs, milk jugs, and water bottles. He expounded on his previous blunt statement, “Your trash was everywhere, so I picked it up.”

            “You didn’t have to do that! Thank you.” I responded, under the impression that he had picked up our wayward trash just because it was a windy day and he thought we needed help.

            “No, I picked it up because it was all over my yard.” He said.

            I apologized again and again. I didn’t know what else to say. He was still holding my family’s trash in his arms, and he looked as though he was waiting for me to take it all from him. I stepped forward and took each bottle and jug out of his arms one by one. I don’t think I ever stopped apologizing while he told me the best way to go about keeping our trash out of his yard.  He eventually left, having said what he needed to say. I walked down the driveway in my socks to get the recycling bin and put the jugs and bottles back inside. I also went to get some grocery bags, like the guy suggested.

            When I told my mom about what happened, I was in tears. Crying is my default response to everything. My mom told me I shouldn’t have answered the door at all, but what was I supposed to do? Leave him waiting on the front step with his arms full of our trash? The fact that he was holding all of our trash that had ended up in his yard due to the wind bothered me the most. Did he feel like he should display the evidence of our wrongdoing? He couldn’t just return the jugs and bottles to the recycling bin, he had to hold them up in front of me and force me to apologize for the wind’s actions?

            I just wanted to forget about the whole thing, but my parents wanted to do the opposite. My mom asked around for the guy’s wife’s phone number, and she sent a text to our neighbor detailing how “distressed” I was, and how any future problems should be discussed with her or her husband. My mom hasn’t realized I’m an adult yet so she fights all of my battles. The wife called my mom back and said that her husband never meant to upset me, he only wanted to express his frustration over the way our trash always ends up in their yard on trash day. She claimed that our trash was in their yard every single week, and they always picked it up. She ended the call by saying that she doesn’t want to have a bad relationship with her neighbors, but the constant trash in their yard was very trying.

            Though our neighbors wanted to discuss the matter further, we declined, and thought that was the end of it. A couple of hours later the doorbell rang again, and a Domino’s pizza guy was standing at the door. We hadn’t ordered a pizza, but the pizza guy insisted it was for us. We soon realized that our neighbors had bought us a pizza to apologize for what had happened that afternoon. I felt worse than ever. I felt awful that my sensitivity, the fact that I had cried in response to our neighbor’s request to put our bottles in bags, had made our neighbors feel obliged to make it up to us with pizza.  Once again I had been too sensitive, and I had made a big deal out of nothing.

            My sensitivity makes me cry, apologize, and worry 24/7. I condemn myself constantly for my sensitivity, and I have always hated the fact that I malfunction in the face of any and every situation. Why can't I talk to people and solve problems without crying? Why do I feel the need to apologize for every one of my actions? Hannah Gadsby asked, “Why is insensitivity something to strive for?” (36:20) in her Netflix special Nanette because she, like many people, is often told not to be so sensitive. Every time I degrade myself for being sensitive, I should try to remember what the opposite of sensitivity is. Gadsby emphasizes the fact that sensitivity isn’t a weakness, it’s powerful and human. My powerful and human sensitivity got us free pizza that night, so sensitivity can’t be all that bad.

 P.S. My dad wanted to put the empty pizza boxes in our neighbor's yard, but I didn't think that would improve our relationship with them.