So I’ve been putting this off for a while because I didn’t really know what to include, what to keep out, where to go with it, so here it is in all its rocky road in a waffle cone stream of consciousness glory. It’s a mess, but a tasty one. Grab a few napkins for the drive home.
I gave up trying to be happy about two years ago, which has made me a lot happier. Striving for the sake of striving just meant I wasn’t stopping to notice what I already had. It kept me stuck in dissatisfaction, unable to see my progress, a prisoner to the illusion of perfection just around the bend. I’ve given myself permission to be okay or even not very good at things, so long as I enjoy them. I don’t need to be the best to love something. Miss Middle of the Road is having a mighty fine time lately as a result. I’ve given myself permission to give up on things that I’ve gotten pretty good at, simply because I don’t really enjoy them or because when I stopped to think about it, I realized that they make me miserable in the long-term. Some societal gold sticker wasn’t worth the pain. I don’t need kudos or approval from anyone else about what I do with my time or how I spend my days, where I go, who I go with or how much time I spend there.
I stopped wondering if I was putting too much, too little, the right/wrong kind of effort into friendships and just started doing what I felt like doing and for whom. Treating them well, with honesty and respect, but letting go of the quantity markers.
Similarly, I stopped wondering why certain people seemed to have lost interest in my friendship or what I could do about it. I acknowledged that out of sight sometimes means out of mind – and that I was sometimes just as guilty of it. I didn’t need to work so hard at friendships. Some are daily, some are weekly, some are monthly and some are when I see you, that’s cool. And when I don’t, that’s cool too. And if things fade, things fade. And we’re both still good folks.
I once got an unintentional punch-to-the-gut ‘compliment’ that was actually a fairly damning self-respect wake up call, and it was one of the best things that’s ever happened to me. It reminded me that I deserved better and that I damn well better start expecting better. After a few years of an emotional descent, it was the ice pick that helped me climb up the crevasse I’d slid down, back up to myself.
I have my slip ups, but mostly I’ve stopped caring about what others think of me. Don’t like my style of photo? cool Think I’m a lazy fuck for not having a regularly scheduled job? no prob My tweets make you roll your eyes at my simpleness or bring out the online troll in your soul? don’t let the virtual door hit you on the way out Think my husband is nuts for not blowing a gasket every time I travel without him, even those times I travel with another man? good that i’m not married to you Think my hobbies are stupid, time-consuming, and self-indulgent? alrighty o Feel like mocking me or giving me a mini lecture every time I crash my bike, break a bone, toss my cookies post-run on a hot day, or — even better — reeling off the number of people who die swimming in open water every year? please know I’m singing the lalala song in my head the whole time
I don’t care what other people have as possessions, careers, pet projects, pet peeves, vacations or physical appearance. I know what I value and I’m comfortable with what I don’t have. You love the shit out of your perfectly decorated home? I think that’s great. I’m happy just keeping mine clean. You get hard posting your latest training stats on Strava or hitting that next PR? Dim the lights, pour that protein shake into your fanciest glass and get your funk on. Send me the link and I’ll send you a virtual high five (after you’ve washed your hands). Your new job is going to have you drowning in the $’s? Cash money, baby. Next round’s on you.
I’ve gotten real comfy with not being comfortable. I’ve gotten pretty cozy with the whole truth and speaking the truth even when it would be much nicer to ignore, downplay or flip-flop to ensure someone else’s comfort. Jeff and I have had a few not so comfortable conversations the last 18 months, about things we should have brought up decades ago, and the sky hasn’t fallen. Indeed, things are really good, although not always pleasant while we’re in the middle of it.
Nowadays I apologize as needed, full-on apologize, no excuses and without qualification apologize. Hold my mistakes and my misunderstandings outstretched in my own two hands and change my behavior apologize. Huge difference. I’ve always been a little stingy in the genuine apology department. Not proud of that, but it’s true. And when I don’t have anything to apologize for, I don’t.
Likewise, I’ve learned to spot when my Victims-Are-Us frequent-shopper punchcard is itching to come out and when someone else is waving theirs. Sorry, that discount has expired. (Please insert the What are Boundaries and Why are They Important? article of your choice here.)
I’ve gotten to the point (again) where I’m ready to walk from relationships, if and when necessary, by removing from my life those that routinely (or infrequently but significantly) have a negative impact on my life. Life’s too short for shitty friends and selfish lovers. I hope you’re nodding along here, because you know it’s true. By being prepared to walk away, I find that I’m always in the active state of choosing which relationships to sustain, feeding the ones which have a positive impact on both our lives. Some of those relationships aren’t always canyons deep and oceans wide. But if they’re positive, I value them. Sometimes we change people for the better by walking away and shutting the door. I received proof of that this week. I’m going to leave it at that.
No matter how diligently I pursue the things I want, if I do things right I’m still going to die (fingers crossed a good half-century from now) with a long list of things I wish I’d done, things I wish I’d learned, books I wish I’d read, things I wish I’d seen, people I wish I’d gotten to know better. At least I hope I will. I can only do so much; but I’ll do what I can. Unfulfilled dreams don’t need to equal dissatisfaction. I hope I’m trying new things, meeting new people, going new places and holding the people I love and cherish close until my last gasp. Sometimes I’ll fail, sometimes I’ll succeed. That’s how it goes. Will I have anything that could be called a legacy? Pff, hell if I know. If my son, husband, friends and family feel they’ve been loved unconditionally. That’s good enough for me. If I’ve set some good examples and given them a thing or two to emulate or think about along the way, even better.
Time to get some sleep. A new week and all its many tasks will soon be upon me.