I second everything Maria and Zen just said.

Also, humans widely vary in what they're able to smell, and how much, and how they respond to it. Maybe her husband can't smell her or not enough to be bothered by it; that doesn't negate the fact that you do and you are, nor does it negate the need for basic hygiene.

That's just not, to me, a normal reaction. If you (general "you") are bathing regularly and wearing deodorant, you can be reasonably assured that you don't smell bad on an ordinary day when you didn't just run a marathon. If a friend then tells you that you smell strongly enough it's permeating their furniture, something is wrong. The reasonable response is not "no, I don't, you're just being mean!" This is not a stranger on the subway, it's your friend. Even if it's just the one person who's bothered, you could, say, wear extra deodorant when you go see that person. Or bathe right before. Do something. Getting your husband to reassure you that you don't really smell doesn't change anything.

You are both totally right, and I appreciate the challenge to look at my own stuff around this.

I have indulged in exactly the thing that I counsel people not to...and that is, taking it personally. From a very young age, I had the sense the people don't actually know me...and don't try. Even though I know the truth is that people DO know me to the extent that they can. And, the fact that they do, is no barrier to misunderstanding or false judgement.

I've got to manage my response to that. Period.

Life is life. Stuff goes wrong. Being a good and, hopefully, actualized person does not mean I'll never have a bad day. It's my job to get over it when I do.

On the totally OTHER end of the self-awareness spectrum...(Oh my, I actually typed 'awareMess' just then, which seems hilariously Freudian)...I have evidence of my progress.

This weekend, I got a letter from my landlord. For those of you who have followed along, you'll understand that my first response to the envelope was dum-da-dum-dum-DUM!!!

It was not good news (surprise!) but, rather than throwing myself down the well, I took a few minutes to be upset and then shifted into, 'well, I'll deal with it.'

Not more than 10 minutes after I read the letter, my phone rang with a call from a good friend who has been with me through every single major transition in my adult life. She usually calls because SHE has an issue, but this time, it was perfect timing for me.

No freak out=big progress!

Yay for progress and self-awareness, bonny! And for friends who call even when they DON'T want something!

Zen, she ran down her hygiene routine for me, which I had to finally stop her and say, "Do you realize how much this is none of my business?" I'm seriously not asking her to do anything different.

She made the connection to a particular grocery she frequents where a lot of people, in diminished circumstance, really do smell bad. She assumed I was lumping her in with them, which speaks to something completely different.

In the end, I boiled it down to the potentially true thing that I am...to use her term 'exquisitely sensitive'...and could she please accommodate for my need.

There is no point in my beating the issue that I'm certain my sensitivity, while pretty refined, is not superhuman-like and other people just don't care enough to say anything...or don't know how.

Over on Ravelry, there's a woman who's been dealing with her wife's cancer treatment and her own hysterectomy. Her wife's chemo is done and her hair is coming back and everything looks good. Her own pre-surgical pain is gone, and they're contemplating a life of health and freedom from pain.

It hurts so damned much.

I don't think I'll be reading in her thread any more.

bonny, others here have given you more wisdom than I have on this topic, which together with your own wisdom has gotten you through to the point where things are as ok as possible with this person. One thing I can say about knowing you - to the extent that you have revealed yourself here, I am grateful for the privilege of knowing you. I love your compassion, your creativity, your ability to cut through bullshit, your sense of the ridiculous. And I'm also really glad that you chose to reveal that part of yourself that is not always completely together, both because vulnerability is a precious gift and because... well... perfect people aren't nearly as much fun as the rest of us.

Yesterday, Harvey chased Sammie vigorously enough that she ended up taking refuge on the arm of the chair I was sitting in. Twice.

Connie, I'm sorry. It does hurt and it's not fair. Sometimes it's too much to be a bigger person and be happy for what we will never have. That's ok. I swear. Survival is not always pretty. Much love and understanding.

Oh, Connie. Sometimes it is too much to try to make yourself be happy for other people. It feels like pouring salt into the wound, but it doesn't have the excuse of preventing infection. It just stings like hell.

you are not responsible for how she reacts, but you are responsible for how you react to her.

This, this, this - for so many different situations. I work to impress this concept on my kids. And to constantly remind myself of the same.

This morning I had to change my main work password. Then promptly forgot it by the next time I had to use it. Ended up calling IT to have it reset again. Hopefully I'll do better this time.