Strength & Weakness

Has anyone else ever become painfully aware that their greatest strength is also their most maddening weakness?

Someone recently commented on how much I give of myself to other people…and they said it (probably unintentionally) in a way that made me self-conscious about it.

In a way that implied, “Tay, you’re just a little bit crazy and it’s making me kind of uncomfortable.”

And for days after this, I internally mulled over whether this defining character feature of mine was, in fact, crazy…even just a little bit.

And I’ll admit it. There is a crazy element.

It’s crazy to try and be what someone else wants or needs. But I do this a lot. I put other people first. I meet them where they’re at. I think of them first. I try to make their day. I ask them questions. I over analyze all my words and actions so that I’m not being too much of this, but enough of that. I will be patient and understanding to a fault. I will listen well and ponder your thoughts in my heart. If you hurt me I might tell you, but you probably won’t feel any repercussions because I would rather love without reservation. And all of this honestly comes pretty effortlessly. Because this is me. This is how I am good at being. This is where I’m strong. And for the most part, it works. I have a beautiful existence full of amazing relationships and opportunities that make my life full.

I know how to use this strength and leverage it for the good of others. If I get asked to do something that will make you feel better and I can, it’s honestly great for us both. But here’s where the crazy becomes uncomfortable…I don’t like asking for anything and I don’t like having needs of my own. This doesn’t exactly work, because it isn’t realllllly human.

I’m 9 months in to my year of being fierce and still learning what that looks like, but I think this is part of it. I’m already fiercely loving and giving. That isn’t something I need to grow deeper in. This is where fierce becomes about expanding, adding, balancing. It’s about flexing those muscles I’m adverse to using. It’s hard to accept those challenges for myself. The challenge of being confrontational, self-focused in a way that makes my skin crawl, and bravely blunt.

I mean, if you play an instrument with only one string, it’s going to get really irritating and redundant after awhile, right? Adding a few strings will help you get farther.

I don’t mean for this to sound definitive, but for instance…

If you are really organized, you are probably inflexible. Adapt more.

If you are giving, you are probably not receiving. Take care of yourself more.

If you are a talker, you probably talk too much. Listen more.

If you are a creative, you are probably scatterbrained. Ask more questions.

If you are insanely busy, you are probably restless. Rest more.

If you are great at encouraging, people walk over you. Confront more.

We all need to push ourselves towards balance. I’m not naive enough to think that anyone, myself included, can just start doing this and voila- a whole new person. No, no, no.

One of my favourite authors, Rachel Held Evans, said it this way:

“You tend to come out of the big moments– the wedding, the book deal, the baptism, the trip, the death, the birth– the exact same person who went in, and perhaps the strangest surprise of life is it keeps on happening to the same ol’ you.”

We have game changing life moments, conversations, and prayers. I don’t know about you, but I don’t ever come out of them a whole different person. I’m still me. But something small changes and creates that tiny ripple effect that dictates what happens next: a slow but insanely amazing refining process. I know that for me, it started with acknowledging that my greatest strength makes me weak when I am motivated out of a place of doing or being for love or acceptance from other people. When it fails, I struggle to feel adequate enough. I get hurt. My confidence wavers. I let myself down. But if I am fierce in the refining process, my strength will go farther and hit deeper because I will be motivated out of a place of fully loving and accepting who I am and taking care of what I need before I give.

My best friend said to me, “…it’s like this. If you were to decide to renovate a house on your own as a project you wanted to do…you’d still be doing it with other people in mind. You’d probably make changes and designs for who ever you thought might take up that space. That’s a beautiful, incredible thing about you. But Tay, you have to make it yours first. It has to be tailor-made, you know? The only type of person who deserves what you give is the person who comes in and helps start painting the walls with you in mind. So, be you. 100%. Do your thing. Focus on making that house however you want it first and then the right people, the ones who truly belong in your life, will come in. They’ll come in and you won’t have to change anything. They’ll just decide to stay because they’ll feel at home in your tailor-made house.”

I think he’s right. Now I have to keep on living it out.

Ooft. Well, that was draining.

Speaking of draining…I would like to drain a whole bottle of wine into my mouth.

Ugggh. Whole30. Two more weeks. I can do this.

Love,

Taylor

Good Girl

I’m sitting on my therapist’s couch, clenching wads of damp, mascara covered kleenax in my fist.

I’m a crier. If you get me alone and talking about anything remotely emotional, the tears just flood in. It’s uncontrollable. I don’t even mean to most of the time. I try not to. It’s something I used to feel like I had to apologize for.

My parents tell me that when I was a little kid all they had to do was give me a look or raise their voice and I would start sobbing in remorse. Apparently their mild signs of disappointment were enough of a punishment for me. And this is still a thing. A while ago someone wrote me a lengthy message all about why and how this particular thing I had done was wrong. It wasn’t even something I had done to this person, but they wanted to make their opinion known and because I felt like they were disappointed in me, it ate at me for weeks. I cried. I wrote replies and deleted them. I was praying to get a sense of whether there was something I needed to feel ashamed of. I felt self-conscious and worried until I came to a point of realizing I had absolutely nothing to apologize for. I was okay with this thing. The other person involved was okay with this thing. The person who wrote me the message was not okay with it, but did they really know everything going on? No. The point being…I tend to base how I’m doing/feeling on how other people are doing/feeling and it’s really annoying.

“So, if you weren’t being the care taker or the good girl, then who would you be?” my therapist asks me.

An impostor, but a less stressed and anxious impostor. No…I don’t know.

I get what she’s doing. She wants me to connect these roles to my own self-worth. And she’s right. Because in my mind, if I’m not sending you a random card in the mail, or bringing you soup when you’re sick, or driving you to the airport at 4:30 AM, or buying you coffee, or volunteering for your event, then you won’t have any reason to like me or desire to do the same for me. And if I’m not always encouraging, forgiving, listening, reachable, peaceful, putting the needs of others before my own, accomplishing my goals, following the rules, making sure everyone understands me and is okay with who I am, etc., then I’m not being a good girl. I feel worthless if I’m not those things. That’s been one of the hardest parts of getting divorced; not feeling “good” anymore. And it’s not like anyone is making me feel that way. I’m doing it to myself. Why? Because for me, it’s always been the wrong/bad choice and all these other choices piled up that led to the “bad” one. It’s the whole thing where the one thing you would never let happen, happens and life becomes painfully ironic. Sigh.

But I can’t just turn these instincts off. I’m probably always going to try too hard to do the right thing. I will feel insanely guilty if you’re ever unhappy with me. I’m always going to worry too much about how other people are doing. And maybe swear words will always sound contrived coming out of my mouth and I’ll never have the ability to smoke or take a shot without looking absolutely ridiculous. But hey, it’s cool guys. I have this sense of obligation to be someone no one needs to worry about, someone who doesn’t ask for much, someone who has it together, someone who is always reliable and conscientious. Someone who lives her life in the lines. Creative, colorful lines, but still organized in a particular fashion.

Maybe a sense of obligation isn’t the right phrase because I’m fairly certain it is ingrained in me. I’m okay with that. I wouldn’t want to be someone else. But I’m working on catching myself before I step too far, you know? There has to be a happy medium between, “Hey! These beautiful qualities make up the fabulous being before you” and,”You’re trying way too hard and becoming increasingly detrimental to your own mental health. Chill, lady.”

So, I’m working on not getting taken advantage of. On not feeling hurt when I give and don’t get what I’d expect in return. On not doing something because I should or shouldn’t but instead because I want or don’t want to. I’m navigating my way through the past, trying to piece together what happened that caused me to arrive at this particular place. And in doing so, I’m processing how to move forward and be more in tune with my own wants and needs. I’m trying to find my voice and not be afraid of it. I’m getting better at bracing other people’s emotions and opinions without making it all about me. Because honestly, (and this is what my therapist is so good at reminding me of) I’m not all that important. And that’s a relief.

Love,

Taylor