How to Find Yourself, Part 3
Thursday, October 8th, 2009
Many years ago, a friend said, “Tell me three things that you’ve done differently this year.”
I asked, “What do you mean?”
She said, “What have you changed about yourself in the past year? If you have no change in your life, then you’ll get stuck.”
At the time? I had no change. I was a human statue. I was working a job I hated, but I could not admit that to anyone—not even myself. I’d gone to school to learn how to be a newspaper reporter. My parents had spent God-knows-how-much-money for my J-school education. I was going to be a newspaper reporter for the rest of my life, and I was going to like it.
It was the same with my boyfriend, someone I’d been dating for a few years. We were no closer to a committed relationship after four years than we’d been the day we’d met. I didn’t want to marry him. I didn’t want to live with him. I didn’t particularly want to live in the same state with him. But I’d been dating him for four years. I figured that was a lot of time to invest in a relationship, so I kept it going. He was my boyfriend, and I was going to like it.
I wore a mask wherever I went, pretending to like things that I didn’t like. But pretending didn’t make me happy. Rather, the disconnect between who I really was and the person who I was trying to be? It created a ton of nervous anxiety, not to mention loneliness, sadness, and a pervading sense of desperation.
Now, 15 years later, I can look back on my life and I can see change. Just in the past year? I started this blog. I started attending a Buddhist meditation class. I’ve made new friends. I overcame my fear of public speaking. I learned how to install WordPress plugins. (I just like the write that because it totally sounds like something that requires a virtual screwdriver, which is something I seemingly never in a million years would know how to use). I’ve started tweeting. I’ve improved my sex life.
It’s a lot. I’ve embraced change, because change is how I grow into the person that I am. I’m not necessarily saying that you need to embrace change, too (although it’s not a bad idea if you feel stuck in a rut). But I am saying this. The problem may not be that you need to find yourself. It may really be that you need the courage to BE yourself.
Are you hiding behind a mask, as I did for so many years? Are you trying to talk yourself into loving a job you hate? Are you trying to ignore the problems in your marriage? Are you trying to be the perfect spouse or the perfect parent, ignoring the fact that you are just imperfectly human—just like everyone else?
Are you, as I have done for so many years, listening to other people’s music? Do you pretend to enjoy activities—hobbies, physical pursuits, social gatherings—that you truly find boring and downright excruciating? (My friend Andi wrote a nice post about this. Reading her post inspired me to write this one). Do you force yourself to finish reading dreadfully boring books and movies, just because you think of yourself as a person who finishes what she starts?
Do you stay in unfulfilling relationships because you are not the kind of person who ends things?
Being yourself takes courage. It means that you aren’t afraid to be:
Wrong. This morning my daughter wanted to cut out some paper shapes and then glue them together to make a Halloween candy bag, but she could not find her scissors. Our house is a mess and I’m sick of that mess, so Mean Mommy said, “If you would put your things away after you used them, then you would know where your scissors are.” I refused to help her look for them because, Mean Mommy figured, it was her fault that she’d lost them in the first place. Mean Mommy was going to teach Messy Daughter a lesson about putting things away. Well, of course, Messy Daughter cried. Mean Mommy told her to go to her room. It went on. Mean Mommy takes Messy Daughter to kindergarten. Mean Mommy reaches into her purse. Mean Mommy finds the missing scissors, right where Mean Mommy put them a couple nights ago (long story). Mean Mommy thought about not telling Messy Daughter about this discovery, because Mean Mommy wanted to be known as Perfect Mommy who NEVER Makes a Mistake. But Mean Mommy really does have a bad memory and really is overwhelmed this week, so Mean Mommy told Sweet Daughter about the scissors. The Sweet Daughter laughed and said, “I KNEW I didn’t lose them!” Moral: it’s better to admit being wrong than to pretend that you were right.
Ugly. I would love if I were a kind, happy, generous and good person all the time. Sometimes? I fall short. Like this morning, I was in a really bad mood. Let’s just say that I’m hormonal. And I was still reeling from the lost scissors incident. And I’m stressed about a few things. So when I pulled into a grocery store parking lot and had to slow down because some shopper was very slowly walking his cart across the part of the lot where my car needed to go? I thought a string of curse words and mentally imagined myself flooring the accelerator—smashing the car right into that slow walker’s cart of groceries.
Of course, I DIDN’T do this. The point is that most of us—with the possible exceptions of monks, nuns, and other people like that—have ugly thoughts and tendencies from time to time. Sometimes we say and do things that we regret. Sometimes me manage to keep this part of ourselves corked—as I did this morning. But denying our inner ugliness is still denying a part of ourselves.
Uncool. When Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive” comes on the radio and no one else is in my car? I turn it up until the doors are vibrating. Same with the theme songs from Flashdance and Fame. I’ve always thought that liking these songs is kind of uncool—for whatever reason—so when other people are around? I change the station. How silly is that?
Weak. I wish I could handle everything with ease all the time. But sometimes? I can’t. Whenever I’ve asked others for help? It has brought me closer to the people who have helped me. Most people love to help others. I don’t know why I don’t ask for help more often.
Unliked. When you have the courage to be yourself, then you have the courage to let others know the real you. Well, you know what? Not everyone is going to like the real you. But that’s okay, because now you’ll know which people DO like the real you, and you’ll feel more connected and less lonely as a result.
This is what I have learned about finding and being me. The more I’ve allowed the real me to shine through? The more I’ve been able to enjoy life. Being willing to be unliked? It has drawn more friends into my tightest inner circle. Being willing to be weak? It has allowed my spouse, friends and family to be strong. Being willing to be uncool? It has allowed me to have more fun. Being willing to acknowledge my ugly parts? That has helped me to tackle various self-improvement projects so I could grow into a stronger, more assertive person who is much less likely to run over poor innocent slow-walking shoppers. Being willing to admit when I’m wrong? It has made people smile.
The good parts of me and the bad parts of me? They are all good. There’s nothing to hide. How about you?
Confused? Start with How to Find Yourself, Part 1.
