I’ll admit, and have admitted, to being an overly sensitive person. I really never was able to pinpoint why. It was just always something that was there.

The other day, I noticed that traffic was backing up on the way to work. Various detours added to the busy time of morning has made things a bit congested around my neighborhood, especially if I happen to be running a minute or two later than usual.

Out of common courtesy, I try to take turns. There are a couple of spots along the route that requires some cooperation.  Allowing drivers to “come in” to the line of vehicles is a common thing drivers do in this situation. A few mornings ago, I did my part and motioned for a lady in an SUV to go in front of me.

Can you guess why I was immediately aggravated? Yep.  She barreled out there as if she was ticked off. As my grandmother used to say, she didn’t “say thank you, kiss my foot, or nothin’.”

Behind my sunglasses (it was a surprisingly sunny morning), I arched my eyebrows and made as big a frown. That lady didn’t give me a second look, so I was putting lines in my face for no one but me. It made me feel better, I guess. I muttered a few things about common courtesy and manners. My daughter, a quiet young lady, usually tells me that no one can hear me when I do this.

I watched the lady for a while. She looked to be older, a smallish lady in a brand new car. The car seemed rather large.  She kept looking at the road, the car in front of her, my bumper, and then back at the road. I became more and more annoyed.

Suddenly, a wave of compassion swept over me. This lady was nervous. Large lines of traffic made her nervous.  Heck, maybe her small stature, that big car, and the general uneasiness that comes with a busy intersection made her even more nervous.

I felt like a real jerk. I even stayed put for a little while to let her get a head start. Poor lady.

This happens to me from time to time. It takes nothing for me to revert to my 12-year-old self. Then, the voice of reason, which I believe is the Lord, prompts me to settle down. I’m grateful for that.

I also realize, in times like these, that I’m not really focusing on anything but myself.

To be overly sensitive and always worried about how others are treating me (even if they aren’t giving me a second thought) is simply about me being selfish and self-centered.

There have been plenty of times lately when I’ve thought about being offended. I can think back to times in my life when someone has said something to me or my feelings have been hurt. But my being offended is more about “How dare they treat ME that way” than “That poor person.  I wonder what is going on in their lives that causes them to be sarcastic, or rude, or so out to lunch that they can’t even wave a ‘thanks’ to a kindly driver?”

No, I’m only thinking of myself when I’m walking around being overly-sensitive and offended. Big slap in the forehead.

I’m hoping 2017 brings me a better understanding of how people tick. Let’s face it: when people say things that come off as offensive to us, they are rarely doing it on purpose.  Maybe they are nervous, like the little lady in the car. Maybe they are self-conscious. Maybe they want to fit in or be accepted so much that they try to make a joke and it’s not funny.

All in all, other people’s issues are rarely, if ever, about me.