Her Perspective: Double red flags
By Sharla Gorder
Double red flags are flying today.
DON’T GO IN THE GULF, they scream. IT ISN’T SAFE! It’s not a good day for boating.
Winds are gusting at over 35 mph. The surf is six to eight feet. The rip currents are sucking the shoreline out to sea.
The red flags whip and tear on their masts. The weathermen nearly hyperventilate with their warnings. DON’T GO IN THE GULF! IT ISN’T SAFE!
And yet…
Someone will drown today.
“Those red flags don’t apply to me,” they’re thinking.
They’re wrong.
My best friend was wrong.
She died drunk in the back of a taxi, her three-time-convicted-felon-boyfriend, passed out beside her.
Suffice it to say, the red flags had been whipping for months. She pretended not to notice. She died.
Most of us don’t have to pay the ultimate price for our heedlessness. But we do pay. In ways big and small, we suffer the consequences of going into that churning sea. It is only in retrospect, dripping and breathless, that we concede — “Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea.”
In preparation for this article, I asked a few friends to tell me about a time that they had suffered because they chose to ignore warning signs of imminent danger. (How would you answer that question?)
It is an uncomfortable question to answer because it requires us to acknowledge regret, and in a YOLO, “no regrets” society, ruing one’s choices is often seen as self-pitying and counterproductive.
I would beg to differ. While endlessly wallowing in negative aspects of one’s past is indeed an exercise in futility, failing to acknowledge our missteps and mistakes is even more futile. We cannot change what we don’t acknowledge.
Those red flags are flapping. It’s so easy to see them — as long as they’re not our own. I was mystified that my friend could not see the path her reckless drinking and relationship choices were leading her down, but I never imagined it would end in her death. I’m still a little angry at her about that.
Or maybe I’m angry at myself. I’m uncomfortable thinking about it because it makes me feel so vulnerable. I’ve ignored similar red flags, but I got to live. Maybe I have a little survivor’s guilt.
My first flags were yellow — the late afternoons when the kids were little and I “deserved that glass of wine, or two.” A decade later, “I just need a glass to help me sleep.” And another few years, “Whoa, I don’t remember finishing that bottle.” Yellow to red.
Even on the relationship front I’ve been known to ignore flags so glaringly red they’re on fire. When I was in my 20s, I actually moved to Europe to be with a man who was so insanely jealous and possessive, he had me followed. I told that red flag — “It’s just because he loves me so darn much.” Ten months later I’m on a Pan Am flight departing London, a hardship transfer out of the country, fleeing this man who so adored me.
Do I regret ignoring those signals? Yes. If regret is defined as a negative emotional reaction to poor choices I have made, then absolutely, yes. In truth, I needed regret sooner, not later.
Do I wallow in that regret now that I have amended those destructive behaviors? No, I don’t think so. But I’d like to think I’ve used it to keep me alert to dangers I seem to be prone to — specifically compulsive behaviors and codependence.
I’d like to think I’ve gotten better with flags. They don’t have to be on fire for me to notice them. The yellow ones seem to get my attention these days. I’m watching one flutter even now.
Are you?
