THEMES OF MY LIFE: YOU ARE FINE

I trolled back through my own writing of the last seven or eight years...  I write about being fine in yourself a lot.

I guess, because I am often not.

I have always been a bit of a chameleon -- admittedly in a slightly snarky package. That part of me, I don't think I could camouflage if I tried. But I have found myself trying to squeeze into boxes that would be pleasing.  And then I'm mad at the world when I realize that I don't fit into them.

Writing about it... exhorting the idea that it's okay to just be you... I think that's probably been my way of therapying myself into believing it, too.

Even now, I find myself trying to shape myself differently as I write. There are places that I feel I should be further along... in growth, in healing, in maturity.  I know that I'm not... and instead of being honest about those things, my inclination has been to just not talk about them or just skirt their edges or to pretend they aren't there. It's not even that I'm ashamed of those places. Growth is a part of life. Healing is a part of life, and I don't really feel like anyone should have to adhere to a timetable. It is what it is.

I just don't want to have to defend that timetable to anyone else.  The growth and the healing is hard enough without having to construct shield and armor around it. If I don't speak of it, I don't have to defend it...  which is, in itself, a kind of shield and armor.

I'm not sure I feel any more comfortable in myself for the writing... but I do find that it makes me more aware (sometimes) of how I treat others in their broken places. Or even in just the things we love that differ.

I ran into that when my Celtic Thunder furor was at its peak... I never liked it when people made fun of me for it. We don't all have to love the same things... but when people ridiculed the things I loved, it was hard to not feel that what they were really ridiculing was me.  I'm more cognizant of that in myself now... am I treating someone's love for their things in the same way I'd want mine to be treated?  And even, if they don't love what I love, am I treating their preferences with kindness?

Oh, I'll get there.

A FRIENDSHIP REFUSED

I offered my friendship to someone a few weeks ago. That sounds sort of silly to say... but I let it be known that I'd like to get to know them better -- and left it in their court.

Which they... walked away from.

It's not that they said "No way, why would I want to be friends with you?"  They just simply digitally left me hanging.

Of course that stung a little. The message was "No thank you. You're not someone I want to know." But... over Lent this year, I dove a lot into my need to people please, my need to have everyone like me.  And when Lent was over, what I was left with was a new mantra for myself in those situations where I feel less-than and that I need to change myself to please someone else.

It is simply this: "You have lots of people who love you just as you are. It's okay if there is someone who doesn't."

So, that's what I said to myself... and I was fine. I just let it go. Why chase someone who doesn't want to know you?

---

This week, that same person sought me out and I thought, "Well, maybe I was wrong? Maybe they do want to get to know me?" So I was friendly, or at least I hope I was... and I tried to continue the conversation they started. And again, they just walked away.

So, I tell myself again, "It's okay if there is someone who doesn't like you."

And I am fine.  Honestly, I am.

At this point, I'm probably more irritated by the whole thing than anything. I'm too busy to play games. Like me. Don't like me. It's fine...  but don't play with me. I'm worth more respect than that.

COVERING AND FINDING YOURSELF

I have been operating under a mask for a long time.

I can't even decide the right image to use for this...  Under a mask, a leash, in a fishbowl? Maybe it doesn't matter.  In the end, I simply haven't been myself.

I have felt like I needed to cover up who I was. I needed to make her prettier. I needed to make her different. Why? So that other people would be okay with me. Or because I felt that I had to portray a certain image because of things and people that I was involved with.

It's really only been recently that I've come to take that off a little and have really begun to understand just how suffocating it is to not allow yourself to be you. How constricting it is to always be hiding what you think and feel, to always be playing a role.... and how the more you play it, the more you lose who the real you is.

And you finally are pushed to the brink and you rip off your mask/leash/bowl and step into the light and it feels so good.  But at the same time, it's awfully scary.  Because you're not quite sure who you are in the light anymore... and now you have to find her.

But it's a good kind of finding.

BITCHES, BEMUSEMENT, AND BLOSSOMING

So... apparently I was called a bitch last night.

There was a time that I would have let this really get to me. I'd chew on it, I'd be bothered by it. I'd lose sleep over it... I'd take it out weeks down the road and work over it again and again. But I'm not going to do that this time.

I've learned some things about people and about myself over the last few years...  some things that are easy to remember, and some things that I have to remind myself.

Not everyone is going to like you...  even the most perfect among us is going to find people who will pick them apart. So you can't let the people who abhor you define who you believe that you are. They see you through black-tinted glasses, and they're going to see what they want to see. They're going to interpret your words and actions in the way that supports what they think about you... and I'm not sure that there's really a lot that you can do about that.  The only person you can control is you.

But the part you can control is not letting their opinion about you matter. If they hate you that much, I'd be willing to bet that they aren't someone that you like a lot either. So why are you letting them matter? Why are you allowing yourself to lose sleep over someone whose opinion you needn't care about that much anyway?

Do you know whose opinion does matter?  Yours. Your friends. Your family.  The people who love you and who you love... the people who are important in your life.  Their opinions of you matter... but the people who hate you?  They honestly don't.  And if you're letting yourself get worked up over the opinions of people who don't figure into the value of your life at all...  you have to ask yourself Why? Why do they get to matter?

I once was trying to explain to my husband about a situation that had me upset, trying to communicate why I was bothered.  After I got done speaking, he said to me something that has stuck with me for a long time.  And what he said was this:

"I can understand why you're upset...  

but what I don't understand is why you would let the opinion of 

bitter unhappy people change the person that you are."

And he was right...

So what I want to say today is this...

To the person who hates me...  I'm honestly sorry that you do, and I hope that what you said last night made you feel better. I don't hate you, and I can afford to be forgiving. I just think that we have very different value systems and perhaps those don't mesh well together.

To the person hurt by someone who hates them... I'm so sorry for your hurt. Something I have learned is that oftentimes the way someone treats you is far more about who they are than who you are. Wrap yourself in the love of the people who love you and know that you have much to offer the world. Don't hide your candle because of an ill wind. The world needs your light. Please don't let them change who you are.

WHEN YOUR ROAD ISN'T THE SAME

Sometimes the road you're meant to walk down isn't the road that everyone else is taking.

You meander off on your own... down a path that you know that you're meant to take. But, when you look around, you realize that everyone else seems to be walking a different one.

And it's not that you doubt that yours is the right one for you to be on...  but at the same time... you kind of do. Maybe the other road is better simply because it's more often walked. Surely there is a reason for its popularity that you have somehow missed.

And so you doubt.  You doubt your road. You doubt your destination. You doubt yourself.

But popular doesn't necessarily equate to better. More-travelled doesn't necessarily equate to right. Company doesn't necessarily equate to truth.

So if you honestly feel that the road you're walking is the right road to take, remember that it's okay to go your own way. It's okay if no one walks yours with you. It's okay if no understands why you need to follow that path.

Sometimes you go the way no one else is going to become someone that no one else is meant to be.

THE MASKS WE'VE FORGOTTEN

What kind of masks do you wear? What does the world think about you that isn't quite true?

I remember once, I was talking to a friend that I mostly only knew online... and I was confiding about how much I struggle with worrying about what people think of me, or about the people who I know don't like me or about my own self-consciousness.

She was incredulous. She had no idea and thought that I always seemed so confident, so sure of myself... that me being self-conscious never even entered her mind as a possibility.  Not only that, but she said that she admired me for that confidence.

And it was so outside of what really lies in my heart that I had to laugh.

I think I'm pretty open here in this blog, so probably my insecurities wouldn't be a surprise to the people who are regular readers here. But, you guys, I'm a mess.  I'm a jumbled screwed-up mess of self-doubt, self-consciousness, self-everything! Half of the things I write here are pep talks for myself. And sometimes I worry that you're going to think I'm a broken record, that I just talk about the same things over and over, and I'm crazy in the head for not being able to let things go.

But you're right!  You're not wrong at all.  I am crazy in the head and I just vomit this stuff all over the internet. But I can't seem to learn the lessons, and I still need the pep talks.

Maybe I'm just stubborn.

Sometimes even I don't know the masks I wear. They're comfortable, and they're familiar. And they cover up the things that I'm afraid to reveal. But, over the years, I've worn them so much, I think they're me. I've forgotten that they're masks, and that they aren't really me.

Sometimes I need to remember.

WHEN THEY MAKE YOU FEEL SMALL

I had an experience last week where I had a conversation with someone who always comes across as very condescending.  I hate that just about more than anything. To be talked down to is not a nice place to be. And as the evening wore on, I found myself more and more furious at the situation, at the person.

As I thought about that, I sort of began to realize that I wasn't angry over the words that were said. I was angry over the way they were said. I was angry because the person made me feel small. They made me feel like they thought I was stupid. They made me feel like less than I am. Like I don't know what I want, or what's good for me.

I couldn't do anything about the other person. But, I could do something about me.

Eleanor Roosevelt is credited with the saying, 

"No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

If you don't let someone else's words matter to you, they lose their power over you. They lose their ability to control how you feel, how you see yourself.

So, I took a breath (after I vented at everyone I knew). I thought about all the things that I knew to be true. And I remembered who I was.

Suddenly, I didn't feel small anymore. I didn't feel less-than. I felt like me... in all the beautiful ways I get to be me.

And it was good.

BEHIND THE MASK

You hurt me.  But, I put on the mask so you wouldn't know.
You confused me. But, I put on the mask so you wouldn't know.
I failed again. But, I put on a mask so you wouldn't know.
I have dreams that are bigger than I think I can accomplish.  But, I have masks so you won't know.
I'm afraid that you will kick me when I'm down. So, I put on the mask before you know you have an opening.

A thousand reasons, a thousand different masks.  And I wear them all.

For what?

So you won't know that I can feel pain?  So you won't know that I don't always understand?
So you won't know that I'm not perfect?  So you won't know my heart's desires?
So you won't know that I'm afraid of what you can do to me?

I do. All of these things, I do.

But, I'm afraid for you to know. 

I'm afraid of your rejection. I'm afraid of your indifference. I'm afraid of your words.
Sometimes I'm just afraid of your silence.

I wonder, on quiet nights like this one, who I could be if I wasn't afraid...  who I could be if I had no masks to wear and no one to fear.

I wonder who I would be and how I would be different.

If I was the person behind the masks.