We’ve all heard it. I can guarantee we’ve all actually said it. It’s a statement overflowing from exhaustion, irritation, and finality. After dealing with a perpetually returning situation or discussion, it’s the moment we throw our hands in the air and ultimately decide…
“I just don’t care anymore.”
My poor mother lived in this state of being with my sassy, growing self (sorry, Mom). I gave her fits over everything. I didn’t want to wear makeup. I didn’t want to curl my hair. I didn’t want to wear pantyhose with my dresses. And push a mom just enough? Yeah… they just don’t care anymore. You’re alive, breathing, and fed, so the pantyhose just do not matter that much in comparison.
Only as life proceeds to move forward, not all conflicts or conversations remain as simple as an objection to curled hair and lipstick.
People misuse one another. We become subject to over extending ourselves to help someone who always seems to have the same downfalls. We have moments of disagreement with others based on really anything – faith, politics, moral standards, and major issues of today in the news.