I’m not sure I believe in karma. It seems a little like wishful thinking. But I do believe that life teaches us the lessons we need to learn– sometimes the hard way.

Judgmental about fat people? I sense fifty extra pounds coming your way quick. Dismissive of chronic pain sufferers? Here, have a 2-week long back spasm.

Think of girls who date assholes as utter bimbos unworthy of your sympathy? Enter the asshole with whom you shall fall deeply in love.

Matt was that asshole. And I was that dismissive, superior harpy, screeching about the fact that only girls with really low self-esteem date assholes, and they should get ahold of themselves and just quit doing it. Duh.

The thing is, assholes don’t wear name tags identifying themselves as assholes. They can be sweet and charming, and often are at first. Hell, Matt was sweet and charming sometimes in the very midst of assholery.

I’m fairly certain all my friends knew what he was, and probably my family, too, but if I knew, I certainly was not going to admit it. I was not one of those simpering doormats with tits-for-brains that would ever date a man like that… Except I did, and it wasn’t because I was a doormat or a bimbo or any other combination of factors that were necessarily my fault.

It was because I fell in love. It was because I saw good in him.

And, the thing is, I like that about myself– the ability to see good in people. It doesn’t make me dumb or passive. It makes me compassionate. It makes me able to learn lessons like this one, so that now when I see someone dating an asshole, I feel the empathy of experience for her.

Oh, and, also, if karma does exist, I would like to say that I have nothing but pure sympathy for those members of the population afflicted with bacon allergies. May I never have to walk in those shoes to learn that lesson.