Worry = Love?

Claire-Adele and I are planning a big trip to South America in the near future. It should be lots of fun, but when I tell people about it, they freak out.

"Promise me you will stay in a safe area," H said. "Please. Some of the countries are dangerous."

My hairdresser warned me about jaguars. "Those cats cat crush your skull. Please be careful." He also warned me that Brazil is run by the mob.

Another friend wasn't worried about my trip to Brazil, but rather driving in Seattle. "There are crazy criminals out there who are rear-ending women driving alone, and then attack and rob them when they get out of the car to investigate. Promise me you'll watch behind you when you drive and keep going in case you get rear-ended. Don't stop, just go to the police station."

Oh dear.

These friends mean well when they dump their worry and fear on me, I am sure they do. 

I was at first annoyed at their worry, but they I reframed it. Perhaps instead they are saying, "We love you and don't want anything bad to happen to you."