Tag: conformity

But I like my head in the sand…what???

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Have you ever found yourself wanting to just drop away from reality for awhile?  Things get complicated or overwhelming or even downright frightening and you just want to disappear from that part of life while finding a tiny season of blissful forgetfulness and enjoyment?  Oh, brother, I have.

I love my children and, overall, my life, with wild abandon.  We deal with trying times (after all, I have a teen and preteen now) and difficult days  but, through it all, they are mine, this life is mine, and I will never cease seeking the answers to why it didn’t go a certain way or how it is “supposed to go” from this point forward.  I know there are times that I have done it all wrong.  Am I doing it right, now?  This is not purposed by self-denigration but, rather, by a yearning for self-discovery.  I think that, overall in my life, I have typically been in such a rush to be happy that I have taken enjoyable moments and made lifelong decisions based on temporary enchantment.  At some point, I look back at said resolutions (and revolutions) and think….”why didn’t I just slow down and try a little objectivity before that one?”  I can actually often look back and remember hearing a little voice inside my head saying “This is probably not the best decision but, well, you’re happy right now; feels good, right?…You can figure out how to be happy again after this happy wears off…”  Ughhhh.  I’m disgusted with the asinine absurdity of that whole idea and yet, yep, that’s been me.  Most euphoria is temporary but it’s circumstances can take much longer to be relinquished than originally embarked upon.

Take marriage for example.  A happy “honeymoon” period is like the teasing and tantalizing effect of a drug.  Exhilaration, euphoria, optimism, mirth and enchantment are your companion emotions at the start.  At some point after that, however, the desire to run away will surface.  Somewhere along the path to longevity, I think we all find ourselves in a spot saying…”what did I get myself into and how can I get out?”  Now, I’m not saying that everyone should get out at that point.  This is just the moment of truth at which you make a decision to stand and fight for it and for a better understanding of how it should work, sit and cower under the feelings of self-pity and self-loathing, or jump ship and run like hell to the nearest exit sign as the fire licks at your heels.  The “drug” wears off and the low kicks in.  Or the hangover, if that’s easier to understand.  And this doesn’t have to be about marriage.  Pick your own analogy and insert here: ________.  Chase high, escape low, ad nauseum with no completion.

I think I often want to spend too much of my time with my head in the sand.  I mean, ostriches are kind of cool birds.  Granted, they have the mental capability of a toddler in a peek-a-boo routine (if I can’t see you, you can’t see me) but they are still regal in their own way.  Or if I take a deep breath once in awhile and plunge my head beneath the water, it is quieter there.  The sunlight glitters across the bottom of the cerulean pool, chaotic noise is dramatically muffled and the weightless feel of the gentle rock, to and fro, of the water is calming.  If I didn’t need to breathe, I could live there…well, except that divas don’t actually like to get all pruny.  But we can choose to take a break from reality sometimes.  The “I need to run!” urge can be settled a little as long as the break is temporary and is not a way to avoid truths.

So, how does one decide whether the current longitude and latitude of life is the vacation spot or the permanent homestead?  I need to learn a long-sought ability to step back from a situation and to veritably see some kind of truth in it.  Is the run-and-hide instinct just a product of my miserable failings prior to this intersection of life or is it a visceral instinct, animalistic and primal in nature but necessary for survival?

(((sigh))) Just new…well, maybe not so new but resurfaced…points to ponder for the day…and night, as it would seem.  Somehow it feels as if a fairy princess dress and tiara with some rockin’ high kicks (sparkly ones, of course) should just fix things.  Diva dreams…

Journeying to Self-Discovery: Being happy even if others try to prevent it…

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Oh, to understand the purpose of some of the trappings of this life. This entire year, thus far, has been a whirlwind of chaotic interruptions to what I only want to become a peaceful existence. One thing I have begun to realize, through all of the disaster-overthrown days that seem to be plaguing me is this cliche’-type platitude that is suddenly making the sense of an unexpected epiphany: You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people, some of the time, some of the people all of the time BUT you cannot please all of the people all of the time. Right now, I want to be pleased with me, whether everyone else is or not.  Period.

I have always been a “people pleaser”. When I was married (the first time), I didn’t like to make waves. I wanted peace, even if that peace was at my expense all of the time. If it meant that, in order to keep harmony, I had to ignore things that hurt me and pretend I was happy, that is exactly what I did. I didn’t want my children to live through unhappiness and strife. I didn’t want them to have to survive a divorce. I didn’t want to have to survive a divorce. I kept the peace by backing down. One day, I learned that my kids were surviving a terrible marriage and that two peaceful homes, albeit separate, rather than one home with quiet tension that could be cut with a cheese knife might be less stressful for them.

As I went through my divorce, I wanted to get it over with as quickly as possible so that the kids didn’t have to deal with the fighting. I didn’t want to fight. I hate confrontation. So I did not fight. I gave into everything except the custody of my children and he could have anything else in the world that he wanted. That included the fact that he paid no child support and got the land we owned that was already bought and paid for while I received the mortgaged house. I decided that I could raise my children myself and that one day they’ll know I worked hard to be able to provide for them. I know there are those of you who will feel like this was the cowardly thing to do and that I should have fought more my to “make him pay, “ monetarily. I still believe that the kids would have suffered more if during the onslaught. He’s happy, they’re happy and I am capable of being what they need when they’re with me (or even when they aren’t), even if it doesn’t mean that we’re rich or affluent. I still do not regret that decision because I truly feel that they would have been hurt even more for my pushing these issues, no matter how much I tried to shield them from harm.

Today, I am realizing that I no longer want to please everyone. I mean, don’t get me wrong…it does bother me when people don’t like me. That being said, I have learned to look at WHY they don’t like me and ask myself “Is that something that I am willing to change about myself? Do I like that part of who I am or is that a fault I need to work on?” When my answer is that I am perfectly happy with whatever behavior or attitude or verbal exchange that seems to have made the person in question unhappy with me, I can say…”This is who I am and I’m content with that. What they don’t like is their problem; it is not mine.” This is not something that I have ever found myself able to do before. It actually surprises me to have this thought process. What surprises me even more is that being able to do this is not out of bitterness. I don’t have an attitude that says “Whatever. I’m sick of trying to please people. Screw ’em.” Rather, I have a disposition that says “I am going to learn to be happy with who I am. If I am proud of who I am and how I react to circumstances, I am going to be happy with me and others, if they are worthy of my time, will be happy with me as well.” Do you know why this is so? Because there are people who will be jealous or have different opinions or will have been raised differently with converse morals to those in which I was raised. Those people may not agree with me all of the time. They may not even like me. I am okay with that. I am going to strive to be happy with me.

Now, I still regularly make mistakes with which I am NOT happy. I react too quickly to a stressful situation, with my children, for example, and allow anger to overcome good judgement. With my current outlook, however, I find myself quickly assessing my behavior and, when I decide I do not like my own response to the situation, I am able to expediently stop, take a deep breath, and then readdress with a more calm and worthy approach. Being able to redirect appropriately may mean walking away from the scene, rethinking my plan of action for a few minutes before returning and THEN starting over, but I am able to find the person I meant to be in the first place and the one I hope I am the next time something similar occurs. I am also quick to apologize to my children or others involved and let them know that I am not pleased with how I handled the event as well as that I will attempt to learn from it.

Okay, so, in deciding not to please everyone (some of them not even some of the time), I am seriously analyzing who it is that I want to be and how I want others to see me. When I say that latter piece, I actually do not mean that I want them to see me as someone they like. I mean that I am trying to be objective about how I appear on the outside (not physically but just as a human being, in general) and whether I’m happy with that. When someone else looks at me, am I able to be “proud” of the person that they see (whether they like what they see or not…this may be sounding confusing…)? What kind of legacy am I leaving, if you will. I am someone who loves her children with every fiber of her being. However, when I’m in the grocery store and they are all three grating on my nerves, for whatever reason or whichever antics they are displaying, I am likely to address them by saying “HEY! I’M GONNA BEAT YOU IF YOU DON’T STOP ACTING LIKE A BUNCH OF HOOLIGANS! CHILL OUT!!!” Now, some people may hear that and (self-righteously) think, “Man, she’s a mean mom.” or “Oh, my! Listen to how she just yelled at those poor little dears.” Anyone who actually has children, loves them and occasionally loses it (I believe that’s most of us.) will hear it, perhaps giggle, think to themselves, “Yep, been there, done that. She’s having a rough day.” and maybe even think “Way to get them back in line, lady.” If they DON’T feel that way, I still know this: my children know they are not going to actually be beaten, they know that this means I am nearing the end of my rope with them, however, and they also know, based on all of my OTHER motherhood behavior which strangers or friends may not always see, that I LOVE THEM and would do CATEGORICALLY ANYTHING for them. They know I have sat up all night for weeks at a time by a hospital bed, never leaving except to pee (briefly and with significant stress and bladder pressure to ensure it remained brief), as one or another of them was sick. They know that I have hostessed slumber parties with a houseful of ten children and made pounds of pancakes, created and played tons of games, allowed silly messes just because it was fun and found ways to make sure every kid had a good time. They know I have let them sleep in my bed and have picked them up in the middle of the night from someone else’s house, even after I had been asleep, because they were afraid or upset and wanted to come home. My children know the sacrifices I make for them and the things that I do just because I love them more than my own life, itself. If they know this, why on earth would I care what anyone else thinks about this?

At work, I am good at what I do. Occasionally someone does not like the way I handle a situation because it is not the way THEY would maneuver given the same occurrence. I think about how I dealt with it, whether there is a reason that it is not the “right” way to go about it or if a difference of opinion is the real problem. I am using that methodology to decide how to go on from there. Most of the time I am happy with the way I perform my career objectives and have no desire to worry another minute about what that other person’s “problem is”.  I am happy just feeling like I am doing the right thing.   If I decide that they have a point and I have to agree with their viewpoint, I am not reluctant to change tack.

Are you at this point yet? People have told me before to worry about me, be happy with who I am and let others worry about whether they’re happy or not. I am responsible only for my happiness and not that of anyone else (except my children, of course). Until I reached this latest, slow-dawning epiphany, however, I was not ready to understand what I had been advised. If you’re not here, you will be saying “easier said than done…you’re not like me”, in your head. I’m here to tell you that, be it age or wisdom, you will get here one day. If you are here, you understand what I am saying. Pipe up and let me know where you are in your own journey.

Ever-Changing Chameleon

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Chameleon...I am a chameleon.  I’ve been called that in the past but only recently accepted the title and it’s banner.  I change to suit different situations, different people, different locations.  What I’m finding is that it seems to have a negative connotation and I want to respectfully disagree.

Being ever changing is not necessarily a bad thing.  I can understand the concept that one may think of a human “chameleon” as someone who pretends to be something they’re not.  Again, I wholeheartedly disagree.  A chameleon does not pretend to be purple when it’s purple or green when it’s green; it changes.  It morphs into a different version of itself in order to be protected from the dangers of a vicious world; but that, in itself, is the explanation that tells me it’s not wrong.  It changes to a different version of itself.  It is still being true to it’s character, a character that few other species have.  It’s character just has varying faces of the same prism.  And a prism reflects light beautifully.

I am adaptable.  I admit to not wanting anyone not to like me.  Someone recently told me that I need to get over that because you have to turn your back on half of the world to survive.  I respectfully disagree.  I don’t want to turn my back until they force me to.  And even if I have to turn, in the interest of self-preservation, I will still be wishing they had been able to see the better side of me…a different color of the chameleon’s camouflage.  I will still wonder what it was that made our encounter in life one feasting on a bone of contention.  I do realize that people come into and go out of our lives for a reason but I would like to leave each one on good terms yet that is often impossible.

Why?  Because I am human, as are they.  I make mistakes.  I screw up.  I was born missing the critical filter between brain and mouth and I often say dumb things before I stop to realize they are hurtful.  I get angry.  I get hurt.  I say more dumb things.  I am human…hear me cry.  I am the first to admit to how imperfect I am and, trust me, I point said imperfections out to myself on a daily basis.  I often try to talk myself out of them…but some of them seem to be innate.  So, trying to go through life without hurting anyone, making someone angry or resentful or without losing someone who was only meant to stay for a brief while, well, that’s a losing battle.  But I digress…

As a chameleon, I am a different person as a mom, a nurse, a friend, a coworker…and so on.  We all have various hats that we must or choose to wear and we adjust our behavior and affect accordingly.  I’m not saying my character is different, just that I rely on differing aspects of the same character.  And I am a character.   Pretty sure none would deny me that little jewel of a title.

Likewise, in love or around different friends with different interests, I shine alternating sparkles of my complex personality.  With a friend who likes superheroes and “gets” my inner dork, I open up the part that lets my geek flag fly. I will talk about wanting to go to MegaCon and having a (not so) secret fascination with Wonder Woman or Mrs. Incredible.  With a friend who shares my enthusiasm for good wine, I will express my likes and dislikes of a plethora of varieties of libation and ask for opinions about what they enjoy consuming.  These things I do not see as character flaws.  Different people bring out contradistinctive  personality traits in each of us.  Each brings joy or wisdom or even sadness to our lives that individually serve to sculpt the clay of who we are.  And you see, I recall being the same chameleon in high school.

In high school, I attended an international school in which one could decipher no less than 8 different languages in conversations being carried on during one trek down the hallway.  I learned a little bit of Hebrew, conversational German, a good Brit accent (much to my children’s chagrin) and very basic Arabic, French and Spanish.  I would try to incorporate my weak language skills into conversations with varicolored friends in order to sharpen my intellect and, I confess, to cause the random burst of laughter when I brutally murdered phraseology from another tongue.  There was nothing wrong with my trying to blend in with them and incorporate myself into their lives in a meaningful way.  In fact, I daresay I think it was right.  If I change how I react and behave around you, because of your interests or likes vs. dislikes, then you know that you are important enough to me that I want to understand more about who you are.  I want to connect.  I desire to comprehend what makes you tick on a level different than what others have made effort to do.  If you see my character to be different around you than when you’ve seen me elsewhere, please, by all means, take that as a compliment.  You matter.

Being a chameleon, in the respect that I’m attempting to describe, is not the same as when they had a sale on faces at the Dollar Store and some chick bought more than a BOGO.  To those people I say, if you’re going to have two faces, honey, at least make one pretty.  Because in those changing appearances, neither is ever beautiful as they are both tainted by the overall integrity (or rather, lack thereof) of the individual.  No, being a chameleon, in the sense I want you to visualize and condone, is a trait of adaptation, a show of respect, an expression of praise.  I don’t just want to be able to be myself around you but I want to be able to be part of you, around you.  I will watch TV shows you recommend (at least trying on for size).  I will listen to your music; I have eclectic taste anyway.  I will ask how your life is going and will attempt to commune with quips and analogies from my own comical or dramatic history to let you know that you are not alone in the fight.

None of us ever is, no matter how lonely it sometimes feels to be a chameleon in the desert.