Learning to Like My Wallet

A while back, my brother and I spent an entire afternoon walking around New York City because I wanted to buy a wallet. My wallet at the time was something I’d received as a gift in middle school—an orange wallet with a pink heart and pink lining. It had zippers on 3 sides and opened to two sections in the middle with an outside clear layer that for years held my NYC MetroCard. 

When the bottom finally started to tear out, I headed to the shops, looking for a similarly formatted wallet—zippers on 3 sides, 2 sections opened in the middle, clear outside layer.

This proved impossible to find. And as the orange wallet wore to truly its last thread, I relented and bought a bright yellow wallet online. It had three zippers and a clear outside layer but when you opened it, it accordioned—for lack of a better word—into 13 pockets for credit cards, cash, and the like. It’s about as comical as it sounds.

Every time I pull out my wallet in front of people, the reaction is either “whoa” or “oh, I love your wallet” and when it’s the latter (and to be honest, sometimes the former), I reply with, “thanks I hate it” and then launch into the story of the entire afternoon spent searching for the wallet and the importance of the clear outside pocket and how its a travesty to simple wallets that we can’t just…

And by this point, the person is long gone from the story because all they wanted to is compliment a wallet that is kind of unique or that they haven’t seen before and couldn’t I just say “thank you” and move on?

So here’s the thing—I really hated it when I bought it. It felt bulky and annoying and I was still bitter about how long it took me to find something that isn’t even what I wanted. But I don’t hate it that much. I still use the wallet. I bought the wallet and gave up my search and even though it wasn’t exactly what I was looking for, it’s now just my wallet. Can I not just move on?

Given how often I rehash my wallet story, I wondered what other stories—bigger, deeper, more important stories—I’m getting lost in. Could I not just learn to accept the compliment?

Is it not strange to respond to someone’s kindness with a bitter story? Is it not strange to disregard a well-meaning word? Is it not strange to let ourselves get so tied up in stories where we perceive we’ve been wronged that we stop focusing on the fact that what we have in front of us is actually perfectly lovely and good?

The last time someone complimented my wallet, I caught myself. Thanks. It’s kind of wacky but it’s fun! And as the words left my mouth, I realized I meant it. Let us speak into existence our own acceptance of things. Let us learn to love what sits in front of us.