Tag: acceptance

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Believe in Me Before I Fade Away

Years ago my friend Lois told me she looked at other people and felt inferior to them because they all seemed to have it all together. She listed one quality or another each of them had she felt she didn’t have.

She left out a few qualities on her list. Those she had, and many others don’t, that made her a wonderful friend.

Being Outsider

It was the first time I realized how easy it is for each of us to take for granted our own uniqueness, what sets us apart from the crowd, or worse yet, to believe that those things you think make you weird, unlovable. Paired with the feeling of being on the outside looking in is the belief you fade away because of your lack of a certain level of “specialness.”

In a world where we often stand alone rather than cry out “I’m lonely!” to those near us, it can take a long time to realize that together with an offbeat sense of humor or appreciation of horror shows may be a deep sense of compassion, empathy and sensitivity to the lost and lonely. The tendency to lend a hand to someone who tripped and fell.

No one is more sensitive to the plight of the downtrodden than the one who’s been there. I was in a situation I never expected to be in a few years ago, where I was frightened, somewhat in shock and forced to make decisions inconsistent with the life I’d been living.

The men and women I met during that time have my heart now, and whatever I can do to help them, I will. Granted, it isn’t much, and sometimes I need to keep quiet or my emotions get in the way of the logic and reason of statements I make on their behalf.

I’ve learned to intercede in other ways. I could have come out of that time feeling like mud mixed with slime, sticking to the bottom of everyone’s shoe, but instead I feel more whole today than I ever have. A lot of that has to do with those who believed in me, regardless of what anyone else may have said or done.

A lot of it has to do with choosing to believe in myself.

I think eventually Lois realized her own worth, although much to my regret I’ve been out of contact with her for years now. I hope anyone who thinks everyone else “has it all” is given a friend who will bless them with a list of their unique combination of qualities that sets them apart.

You have them.

Colorful Child's Handing Hands, Cartoon People Silhouettes 3D Il
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Photo Credit: (gummy bears) © ivanmateev – Fotolia (paper dolls) © Bigstock

 

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Our (less than) Perfect Stories

(c) kaalimies DollarPhotoClub

In one of my favorite episodes of the television classic, “The Dick Van Dyke Show,” neighbors Millie & Jerry are puzzling over why Rob (Dick Van Dyke) and Laura (Mary Tyler Moore) ruined their party.

“Sure they have their faults,” Millie says at one point. “Everybody does. People would be pretty dull without them.”

I like that thought. It’s forgiving and human. Yet it implies perfection of character is dull, and I challenge that. Of course to challenge it properly I’d have to define perfection and I’m not sure I can do that adequately.

I speak here of the everyday interactions of most people, not the extreme behavior of the handful who destroy without remorse. When it comes to truly evil behavior, I think we all can agree a little more perfection is desperately needed.

The devout will tell you perfection is our nature without sin, but when it comes right down to it, is sin black & white or does it come in shades of gray? Forget it, I’m not having that conversation.

To others being perfect means fitting a standard of beauty, intellect, achievement or the like, but that doesn’t address character. Something to consider if your definition includes being measured on a scale.

Still others will say being perfect is being complete, having the sum parts required for the whole. That’s a hard concept to grab hold of and make practical, and again, I’m not going there.

Here’s what this comes down to in day-to-day terms: Perfection seemingly wouldn’t create conflict, and conflict is needed for good storytelling. At their heart, most stories need to have a good guy and a bad guy. Some stories need a particularly fiendish bad guy.

We like our stories. It’s one way we know to distinguish and measure our lives against others. Therefore, we need our conflict, and in that way can grudgingly accept our imperfection.

How many of us have heard someone say, “I’d rather go to hell than to heaven; hell is going to be a lot more fun”?

I disagree. I don’t think perfection would be dull. I think it’s unknown.

All major religions seek God, seek perfection, yet at their heart recognize it won’t be found here on earth. So until we find that place where we are our perfect selves, I guess our faults are part of what make our story compelling.

This post is an updated version of a post originally published in May 2015.

Image credit: (dandelion) © kaalimies – DollarPhotoClub.com (background) © Amandee – Dreamstime.com

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Outside Looking In

“I used to think I was the strangest person in the world, but then I thought, there are so many people in the world, there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre and flawed in the same ways I do. I would imagine her, and imagine that she must be out there thinking of me, too. Well, I hope that if you are out there and read this, know that, yes, it’s true I’m here, and I’m just as strange as you.”
― Frida Kahlo

How many of us have sat silently at night, convinced we stand alone in the world in our oddness, and uncertain as to how to change? Fearing constant rejection throughout our lives?

Me at Four
Even at the age of four I felt like an outsider.

For years I lived my life that way, believing not only was I too far outside the norm to be accepted, but that I would never truly be loved, that I would be isolated from others all of my life.

I no longer feel that way, even though I know I stand alone in many ways. Well, perhaps not truly alone, there are others like me, but I’m not sure I know them. I’ve found a way to be myself in the world, and perhaps that makes me oblivious to the thoughts of others.

November 2014 family gathering 5x7
I’m doing better these days.

Well, truthfully, I have my moments, and in those times I wonder if I’m blind to my oddities the rest of the time. If that’s the case, there’s little I can do to change now. I am who I am and I don’t know any way to be any different.

I’m not ruled by those thoughts anymore. Perhaps I was overly sensitive to them before, and made things worse by behaving in a way that matched how I believed others saw me.

This is who I am.

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perfectly me

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again. Then quit. No use being a damn fool about it.”
― W.C. Field

rollerskating girl
Not me. Not now, not ever.

I can’t roller skate.  Nor can I bowl,  or do a pull-up. I don’t expect to ever be able to do any of those things, and they’re no longer important to me. At one time they were, and that stayed with me for way too long. But I’ve gotten over it and accepted my limitations.

I didn’t stop trying to learn how to bowl until I was in my 30s, when finally someone told me it was acceptable not to have that particular skill.

He didn’t word it quite like that, however. We were at a bowling alley with a group from church, and he was splitting his time between reading a book and talking to others.  When I mentioned what a terrible bowler I was, he shrugged his shoulders and said, with a laugh, “Who cares? It’s not something I want to be known for anyway.”

Okay, a bit snobby. It did lead me to think, however, is this really me? Is it a goal of mine to be a better bowler, or is everyone else in my circle telling me it should be?

There’s a point where you ceaselessly persevere, and there’s a point where you say, is that even a skill I truly want to master? I had no real interest in bowling, I’d just been told over and over not to give up, I could do it if I tried.

But I couldn’t. I tried and tried, and my body would not cooperate. What’s more, I likely never would have gotten to a point where, even if I could hold my own in a game, I would have looked forward to it. I did not want to bowl.

Once I figured out that hanging onto a group of friends whose main activities I didn’t enjoy was fruitless, I was a lot happier. It took some time, but gradually I developed friendships with people whose faces lit up when they talked about doing the same things I wanted to do.

happy dance girl
I know, I know, this isn’t a waltz

That’s not to say I’ll always avoid everything I’m not particularly good at doing. I would love to be able to dance, an old-fashioned waltz, perhaps, but it’s fair to say even at my best I won’t be entering any contests. That’s not my goal, at least not at this point. Right now I’d be happy to keep the beat.

(I have learned something about dancing over the years…call it sexist, or call it practical, but as we all know, men lead. With a strong lead, even a woman who isn’t a good dancer looks good. So half my battle will be finding the right partner.)

I’m not limiting myself only to friends who share my interests, either. Some of my best friends (a-hem) are bowlers, and good ones at that.

I don’t have to be the best, or even particularly good, at any given skill to enjoy doing it. I have my expert talents, and I have those I fumble with.  It’s that mix of abilities and experience that makes me who I am, perfectly me.

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forgiving you again… and again

I’ve typically been a forgiving sort of person, especially if I feel I’ve been heard, that the offender has truly listened to my side.

When I haven’t been able to express my feelings or concerns, it’s a little harder, but still, usually I move on. It’s easier that way.

Admittedly, sometimes I may revisit a situation years later, typically when I’m experiencing something similar in nature. Thankfully that never lasts a notable period of time.

forgiving when the other person stubbornly remains the same is the challenge.

I don’t know how admirable it is to forgive & forget when someone has acknowledged your concerns. It’s forgiving when the other person stubbornly remains the same that’s the challenge. What happens when the person who has hurt me seemingly listens to me, then proceeds to cross me in the same way time and time again?

I have a friend who regularly oversteps boundaries with controlling behavior and gossip. It drives me batty, and I’ve tried repeatedly to talk through the problem with her. She seems to hear, then goes right back to doing what she did before.

Her attitude toward me is that of parent to child, and it’s to a point that at times I’m ready to walk away from the friendship because of my anger and frustration. It gets to be more than I can deal with effectively.

I don’t say as much because it would hurt her deeply, and I care too much about her to choose to do that. At the same time, she’s pushing her limits, and my measured responses aren’t getting through. So I remain angry and frustrated.

It hardly seems worth the forgiving, because even if I do, I’m just going to have to start the whole process again.

I know the response of my faith should be to forgive continuously, but I haven’t figured out how to do that. Overall my affection for her outweighs my anger, so in that way I do forgive and forget…until the next time.

teddy-1113160_640

And that’s the dilemma of all our relationships, I suppose. We are who we are and some things aren’t going to change, no matter how much we know they should. So we seethe until the boiling goes to a simmer, then cools off completely, knowing the fire will light again.

It’s either that or be alone. Some days that choice is tougher than others.

 Daily Post – Forgiveness

Certain details of this story have been changed to protect identity. I discussed what I wrote about in this blog piece with my friend before posting it, and seeing it in writing helped her understand my feelings. Our friendship remains strong.

Image Credit: © yurolaitsalbert – Fotolia