Tag: destiny

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moving forward

Earlier this week I alluded to the “rabbit’s hole” I speak of in this post.  In honor of a new era,  I’m reposting this piece, a favorite of mine:

A few weeks ago I found myself sitting alone in a crowd, anxiously searching for a familiar face.

I was expecting a friend–until her text  told me not to. Now I was faced with sitting by myself at a celebratory service that would no doubt be an emotional, spiritual, uplifting experience (it was). I started looking for anyone I might know, a bit nervous but not wanting to seem so.

Thankfully, someone did appear, a more than gregarious man, well-known for being a bit of a character.  I’d only met him once for all of thirty seconds, but I didn’t hesitate to call out his name and invite him to join me. He did, and it made that service a whole heck of a lot of fun.

It wasn’t until days later it hit me:

this was not only the first time I’d had the courage to do something that bold, but I hadn’t thought twice about it. For years I’d sat alone in services and what-have-you, often because I was too frightened to reach out to someone and ask them to join me.

This was another significant change in me I could count as the result of terrible betrayal.

All my life I struggled with being pushed around by co-workers, boyfriends, classmates, even family. I simply could not stand up for myself. Try as I might, I was unable to say what needed to be said, or even imagine what that should be. Instead I would stand there, dumbstruck, humiliated and frustrated.

I desperately wanted the ability to detect when others were pushing me around.

That is, if I were sharp enough to see what was going on. Sometimes I’d be pushed pretty far before I realized it.

When that happened, I was left with shrinking further or getting back at people, although more often than not they brought on their own trouble with their back-handed behavior. I didn’t like dealing with things either way, however, it never felt good.

Instead, I desperately wanted the ability to detect when others were pushing me around and belittling me long before it got out of hand. More than that, I wanted to project an attitude that precluded demeaning treatment. I just couldn’t come by it. I had no idea how it worked.

Eventually I was pushed down a rabbits’ hole into a hell that wouldn’t end,

and it was that experience (a story requiring too much detail to go into here) that finally gave me the insight and ability to stay ahead of those who would defeat me. It took a long time, well after the peak of the horror, to fully develop the skills to face others with confidence and enough of a take-it-or-leave-it attitude that I could claim victory. Have I fully stepped away from the problem? Likely not, but I’ve figured out what steps to take.

I also realize I need to use those circumstances to my advantage, to work toward bringing me to a point where I can say, “well, I wouldn’t want to go through that again, but I’m glad it happened.”

I’m not sure when, if ever, I’ll be there, but I look to the good that’s come of out this, and it has been substantial. I used to resent being told “everything happens for a reason.”  While I believe good can come from bad, that doesn’t justify the bad.

I like what Dumas had to say. It acknowledges the bad, but gives proper credit to an overwhelming and affirming end result:

“Women are never so strong as after their defeat.”
― Alexandre Dumas, Queen Margot, or Marguerite de Valois

blue sky balloons

I hate that it took such drastic circumstances to bring about this change for me, and I sometimes wonder, if those events hadn’t conspired, would I still be where I was then, or would I have found another way to grow to where I am today?

I don’t want those responsible for my plight to believe there’s any justification to their actions. Likely they would have preferred I was left in defeat and despair anyway. Is success the best revenge? I don’t know that I’m seeking revenge, but success is by far the best outcome.


Image Credits: Butterfly field (Field of Daisies) © adimas – Fotolia; (Butterfly) © ecco — Fotolia; Balloons Flying High (Sky Background) © Andrii Salivon – Fotolia; (Balloons) © JRB – Fotolia.

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Treasure the Simple, Value the Complex

As I was unpacking for my second year of dorm life, the wife of one of my professors stopped by and peeked in to see how I was doing. She brought a dozen chocolate chip cookies, which I no doubt quickly devoured, and looked around with a smile.

Cargo Overload
First,  it no longer fits in your car.

“I always get nostalgic when I see you kids unpack,” she said. “It reminds me of a time when life was simpler, and you could pack everything you own in the back of your car. Pretty soon you’ll start gathering necessities and the load will get bigger and bigger.” She paused.  “I miss the simple times.”

I wondered what load she was talking about, the furniture, books, dishes and clothes that filled her home, or the burdens of raising a family, managing a career and keeping the love alive in her marriage.

I’ve been working to clear out as much of what I own as I can, to keep that load as simple as possible. It’s a lot more practical that way, especially when you anticipate another move sometime in the future (I rent, so it’s inevitable). As for the rest of my life, I’m not sure if I’ve missed out by not having a few more complications.

I’ve never been married, never had children. The reasons I’ve stayed away from those commitments aren’t clear to me. Growing up, my parents had a troubled marriage, but plenty of people with a similar childhood have gone on to raise families of their own, some successful, some, not so much.

It gets lonely sometimes without the connections that come from having your own family. On the other hand, I have friendships that go back as far as those college days, including that professor and his wife. Even before social media made it easier, we kept in touch.

Every path has its moments of beauty as well as treacherous turns.

With my mental health issues (I have bipolar disorder, which is well-managed but ever present) a simple lifestyle seems to suit me better. I get overwhelmed easily, and need my space. Don’t get me wrong. In no way, shape or form am I telling others with the same disorder, or anything similar, to stay away from marriage and family. It may be your salvation.

No matter how we try, life isn’t simple, and we need others to be there in both trying times and moments of joy. I thankfully have the support I need in my life, and I’m well aware the loneliest women are those in unhappy marriages. It’s hard to reach out and admit your husband is failing you.

Every path has its moments of beauty as well as treacherous turns. The load gets bigger as we get older, but the simple can be found. Treasure the simple, value the complex.

Life is made up of both, and the balance we have in our lives is often what we’ve sought out, what we’re comfortable with, perhaps how we can be most successbigstock-little-girl-with-umbrella-in-t-86027189-convertedful. Yes, we need to evaluate from time to time if we should challenge ourselves and take on new ventures, whether they involve moving up or down the simple-to-complex scale.

Frankly, however, life has a way of doing that for us most of the time. We make our decisions according to our needs. So for now, I’m taking a deep breath, picking up a good book and having a simply restful evening.

Simple

Image Credits: (Moving “Van”)  © James Group Studios Inc — AdobeStock; (Girl in Rain) © lavitrei — Bigstock