So, I've been thinking a lot lately that the old me would be horrified at the new me. I've been trying to write this in my head for a while. I had a lot of trouble deciding where to start, but I decided to start with the most personally urgent aspects and track back as necessary.
The thing that has loomed largest is the whole "loyal friend" thing. See, that used to be something about me that I took great pride in. I would go to the ends of the earth for the people I loved (aka "my friends") and ask for nothing (except perhaps a little love) in return. I considered this a definitive aspect of myself. My self esteem was in the toilet, and this was one of a very few things that I could cling to as making me worth something.
Here's the thing: that wasn't a "saving grace", it was a symptom.
It's been, oh, seven or eight years now since I shed that vision of myself, and I'm infinitely better for it.
You know what I got out of giving up my loyalty? Self-respect. And not just a little; a LOT.
Here's the thing...if you have to BE loyal, there's something wrong. If you are in a reciprocal relationship, where you are valued AS YOU VALUE, then loyalty doesn't come up; of COURSE you are there for the other person, as much as you can be when you have other priorities like a spouse and children and even, yes, yourself. No, of course I don't mean that your friend calls you in a personal crisis and you say "call back later, I'm getting my hair done"...I mean more like this: "Hey, I know you were supposed to come over this weekend to visit, but I'm sick as a dog, so let's reschedule." Because the OLD me would have been on her deathbed and would have sucked it up and visited cheerfully. On the surface, I'd've called it loyalty, but it was really fear that the person wouldn't love me anymore if I wasn't COMPLETELY accommodating of his/her every whim. This, needless to say, is not exactly healthy.
While I'd been re-evaluating my "loyalty" ever since my "best friend" of almost a decade dumped me over the phone, the final change is traced back to a perfectly lovely person I met online. She was (well, is, as far as I know) a very popular person, with a huge circle of friends and lots of activity...one of those people whose every post got ten or twenty comments at LEAST. I was one of her regular, most loyal commenters. She replied to me often, and occasionally commented to my posts in my personal blog, though more initially and less as time went on. We had a lot in common and got along well. I felt like we could be really close, but it wasn't happening. There came a day when I was doing a cut on my personal blog. And I thought, you know, I've invested a LOT of time and energy in her, and I'm settling for beans in exchange...and it made me feel bad to settle.
I'd done a LOT of settling in my life, starting with always being the "second-best" daughter (out of two) and moving on to pretty much every guy I ever dated.
So, this one time, I decided, you know what, I'm going to take her off my list; no hard feelings, if she wants to come back, I'll be glad to have her, on NON-settling terms. So I made the cut. Unsurprisingly, it was barely a blip on her radar. And that hurt a bit, of course, but I knew it was the right thing...and I was right. Suddenly, I had more time, and I was investing it wisely, in the people who DID reciprocate, and I felt SO MUCH BETTER about myself.
Well, once you start respecting yourself, you get hooked quick, I guess, because that was it. From then on, I changed to the way I am now; I don't keep score, but do keep a loose sort of track, and when I notice that a relationship has become lopsided, I let the person know (if I think there's reason to) and then, if it doesn't change, I walk away. I am always on the lookout for people who are willing to be invested in me as I am in them, and I make it very clear...and I've had friendships that otherwise might have fallen by the wayside or been very lopsided survive and thrive, so that I feel loved and valued as I love and value them. I ALSO try not to BE the lopsided one; if I find myself not connecting with someone, I try to let them go as quickly as I realize it's not going to happen. I know that I've probably bummed some people out doing this, and I always feel bad about that, but I feel like, in the long run, I'd hurt them a lot more by letting them linger around settling for the scraps I have to give...no one should have to do that, you know?
Really. No one should have to settle for scraps of love and attention.
I've found that settling, too, closes the door on opportunities where one wouldn't HAVE to settle; if one is spending hours of ones time on people who spend seconds on them at best, one isn't looking for truly healthy friendship opportunities. I understand the idea, boy do I, of better a bad friend than none at all, but, on the other hand, better one or two real friends than elevating four or five acquaintances to friendship status...and, honestly, better self-respect and no friends than self-hatred and lots of them...and that includes me, so I never hold it against people if they leave for this reason!
There, that's the big thing that's been on my mind, but it's also only the tip of the iceberg. That change, and the re-evaluating I did back in 2002 when my husband Tom and I hit a big bump in our relationship, led to a lot of dramatic personality changes, some of which would astonish the old me in good ways, but also some, like this one, that would astonish in a very unpleasant way indeed!
Just a brief (for some value thereof! *laugh*) summary of some of the other changes:
I am confident in a way the old me would almost consider "cocky", which comes almost entirely from this security of self I feel because I have taken charge of my own life. I don't make my decisions based on whether X person will still like me, or like me more, or on any of a hundred other "shoulds", but on what I genuinely think is right for me and the people (my spouse and children) in my care. I am still terrified on the inside a lot (and on the outside with close, trusted friends) but I have learned to troop through it and find strength in my own convictions.
The old me would be glad that I have the strength of my convictions; she did, too, in her way...but those convictions are lot less other-centered than she would ever be comfortable with, this whole "not putting EVERYONE else first" thing is WAY outside her comfort zone.
We both have issues with feeling "selfish", but the new me has a lot better handle on it, recognizing that doing the right thing for yourself, when it doesn't actually HURT other people, is okay.
In my relationship and as a parent, of course, I put them on an equal level with myself, and sometimes, of course, the boys have to come before both Tom and I, but I am not nearly as self-sacrificial as, say, my own mother was, and I think she's suffered for it. I want to come out of all this as a happy, fulfilled person in my own right, and I keep that in mind.
The old me would be HORRIFIED that the new me places very little importance on things like birthdays, anniversaries, and even holidays, although the latter is changing a bit for the sake of the children, for whom such things tend to serve as touchstones to childhood later on, as well as building family closeness. But, on a personal level? Life is so precious to me every day that I'm not invested in these special days. My marriage is about an every day partnership; I take every chance I can get to celebrate that, regardless of whether there's a holiday or anniversary handy. I don't need excuses, you know? And, and this is important, I don't wait for those times to GET love and attention from my spouse, either; I want to and DO feel loved and appreciated all the time, whenever he feels moved to express those things, and he feels moved to express them often, because I do and because we have a loving, healthy, happy and fulfilling relationship for BOTH of us. The old me, burdened with a lifetime of rejection and "settling", wanted...needed...PROOF of love, and while seemingly making all kinds of sacrifices, still kept him at arm's distance, never really believing in his love for me and not entirely sure of my love for him, demanding all sorts of things and holding up my own sacrifices as evidence that I loved him more than he loved me...this kind of "competition" is simply starting from the wrong point. I chose, when he walked out that day, to make some real sacrifices...and he saw that, and was, I think, ashamed that he blamed all our problems on me when it was truly a mutual thing, and he stepped up to match me, and we found a place that was good, healthy and happy, where we are interdependent and where both our needs and desires are balanced as best we can and we both accept that. Not that we don't have our times where we still tussle...but overall, we have an excellent partnership.
Another reason for my lack of interest in special dates is the deterioration of my memory. I had a dream the other night that really hit home; I realized that, if I'd started with a more typical memory, I've lost enough to practically qualify for Alzheimer's! Now, my memory was a HUGE part of my identity most of my life. Oftentimes, I'd put off the claims of "giftedness" as being nothing more than a really good memory, which isn't really true, but I had a lot of issues around my giftedness, and it IS partially true; the fact is, if I read something (or watched something) I remembered it. Period. About as good as I ever would (which is why "studying" always seemed bizarre to me), with something like 90% recall. I can't do that now. Part of it, I know is disuse; I know that if I really worked at it, I'd probably be able to get back up to 60% recall pretty quickly, and probably up to 80% in the end. But, compared to the thousands of "clear as the day they happened" memories I used to have, I'm down to a bare handful.
The main reason for THAT is that...and here's another really important thing...I don't live in the past anymore. My focus is almost exclusively on the present and future. I have let go of a lot of things that I used to keep shiny and bright because they helped motivate me, usually in a "never again" sort of way, but also in a "I can have a bright shining moment like this again if only..." kind of way. I let all that go and really concentrated on making the most of today, which an eye on the future when I need a boost of hope, because it's a LOT better and more practical to look forward than back. Looking back just makes you want to stop, really, whereas looking forward...well, it might actually happen, so you can keep working toward it, as long as you keep it realistic and genuinely achievable. It helps to break it down into steps sometimes, and to concentrate more on the near future rather than the distant future. Anything beyond the next five years can be fun to think about, but probably isn't going to be practical as a motivator unless you are a very unusual person.
I'm really proud of this change in myself, though, at the same time, I do wish I had a better memory again, and I am going to be working on that!
Finally, the biggest change I've embraced is change itself! Even good things don't have to and often shouldn't remain the same...and clinging to memories is, as I've said, a good way to stagnate, which is another way to say "stop living". I owe this realization mostly to Tom, because I have watched him pursue life with both hands, always and ever moving forward, open to every new experience that comes his way, even when it scares him. And I came to admire that in him, deeply. So I chose to emulate it; I have embraced new experiences, and opened up hundreds, if not thousands, of experiences and possibilities that I previously was completely closed to.
More than anything, this makes me the leader of my own life, rather than a confused, scared and stumbling soul being dragged along by the things that happen to me. Instead, I make things happen...not for the sake of making them happen, which is another way to be unhealthy...I don't have to be in total control of everything! But it's MY life, and I should and do OWN that...refusing to make a choice is still making a choice, one of those sayings that would intensely irritate the old me, but turns out to be true; refusing to make a choice is choosing to be passive, and sometimes that's a sensible thing to do, but a lot of the time, that's just fear, and living in fear is just a plain sucky way to live. I know, I did it. I spent most of my life so afraid...of so many things...that I didn't really live. Taking control of your life, actively rather than passively living, takes a huge step of courage if you didn't come by it naturally, but once you've taken that step...it gets a LOT easier, quickly.
Today, I still hate screwing up, because I'd hardly be human if I didn't, but I also know I'd rather screw up than not live at all, because the rewards can be and have been huge. I have two astonishingly wonderful children, an amazing marriage, and a future path that looks to be fulfilling and happy...and that's the message I give back to that scared, broken girl...that and a lot of love, the same love I have for those who are in a similar place to where I used to be.
Life IS scary and hard...and beautiful and good...and you are loved, deeply, and WILL be loved, even if you stop trying so hard to make everyone else happy and take your life into your own hands. It will be okay. Be who you are, rise or fall on that, and, no matter what happens, you'll go into the long goodnight with your conscience clean and your heart full of the knowledge that you lived as fully and honestly as you could. Even if, as I contemplated in dorm room over going on two decades ago, it turns out that you really are a monster and everyone really does hate you...well, then, no one will be hurt when you put yourself out of your misery. But I have this feeling that, like me, you'll find out that it doesn't turn out that way; you aren't perfect, but you aren't a monster, either, and there are people, even if only a few, who love you exactly as you are, for who you are. And that alone will be enough. Really.
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