It’s 2 a.m. and here I sit, contemplating how I got to this
exact place in my life. As
I look around, I see this tiny room—at one time my son’s bedroom, then the
beginnings of my teenage step-daughter’s bedroom, then a storage/junk room—which
has now become my bedroom. Furnished
with a broken dresser, a yard sale chair, a mattress & box springs we pulled
from the ditch, and a myriad of forgotten toys, it’s quite the appropriate
metaphor right now. There’s an empty
closet with hangers that used to be filled, now hanging bare. The “bed” sits on the floor, unsupported by
any frame. The lamp is missing its
bulb. The windows wear no curtains. The floor is covered in discarded clothes,
mismatched shoes, and remnants of a jigsaw puzzle. Nothing about it is tidy.
I am here, alone, partially because of the choices I have
made. And while they may not have been
popular or expected, I will not apologize for them. From the outside, my world seemed to be rolling
along just fine. But behind the blinds,
the rest of the story was being told. Don’t
get me wrong, in thirteen years, I was never mistreated. My husband and I never fought and we never
let on (not even to each other) that anything was wrong. And that in itself was the problem. We both chose to never confront one another…ever. Without going into the personal details of
our marriage, I will simply say that communication was lacking…which seems a
bit odd for two lovers of words such as us.
My part in that silence is all I can speak to now. For I cannot begin to try to reason out
another person’s choices.
Growing up, I was never given the option to speak my
mind if my opinion was contrary to my mother’s.
So I spent years dishonestly “agreeing” with what she said. Why would I not? I saw what happened when people overtly
contradicted her. I chose the easiest
route. The safest. However, when my own children were very young—one
in second grade the other in preschool—I decided to end that foolishness. I knew that they could not grow up believing
that it was okay to let people walk all over them. I took to heart the saying that “you teach
people how to treat you” and sent my mother a letter telling her that I would
not allow myself to be run over anymore.
That letter, and all that came along with it, awakened something inside
me. A realization that what I truly
wanted and needed was just as important as what “they” wanted and needed. My entire life, I had felt that my needs didn't matter…that as long as the people around me were happy, I
was doing everything right. I believed
that it was selfish to think any other way.
At least it was for me. I encouraged
others to put themselves first, but I never could. Even as I write this, I can see how odd that
sounds, how imbalanced, how wrong. But
at the time, it just seemed like the only right thing to do.
I have never really known unhappiness…not really. I have always been content. I was the happy-go-lucky optimist who forever
had a smile on her face. I made it
through some tough stuff growing up and came out of it “textbook healthy” as a
psychologist once told me. I was happy. I was positive. I was resilient. On the outside. Inside, I was convinced that my worth was
directly proportionate to how happy I made everyone else. That it didn’t matter where I stood on
anything, as long as those around me were pleased. That I couldn't let them down, no matter how
crushed my hopes or dreams may have been.
In the last five years, that has changed. I have changed. Life has changed. Again, I won’t go into the minutiae of it
all, for the details are not what this is all about. The change occurred when I realized that I
matter. That didn’t mean that no one
else did…just that I was as important as anyone else on this planet. That was actually a revelation to me…and one
that did not go over well with some.
When I came to the conclusion that my emotions were just as significant
as anyone else’s, that my body was just as respect-worthy as anyone else’s,
that my love was just as valuable as anyone else’s—that's when I knew I could
no longer stay in the circle I had been in my entire life. That’s when I stood up and said for once, “Here
I am! Take me or leave me. But you have to take all of me or leave all
of me, because I’m tired of living only one tiny piece of who I am.”
In taking that stand, I lost a great deal. And I mourn those losses daily. However, I also acquired more than I ever
dreamed possible. In learning to respect
myself, I gained the respect of those who know the real me. By bearing even the ugliest parts of myself,
I found those who see the most beautiful parts of me…parts I didn't even know
were there. By letting go of the picture
of happiness I had in my head, I discovered the true joy that I believe I was
destined for.
This
is not the path I would have drawn for myself had I been given that
authority. It is, however, the road I
have traveled and the direction I believe I am supposed to follow. I have been and will be judged by some around
me for the choices I’ve made. I know
that and accept it. In the end, though,
I believe that I am sailing toward my true north. I also believe that the people in my life who
know the real me will continue to sail with me, briefly taking the helm or
referencing the map when needed. I will
be forever grateful for every moment that has brought me to this point in my
life. It’s simply time my compass was
calibrated.
