Last week I wrote this post about how it feels to be me when I'm depressed. I was breaking the rule, "thou shalt not overshare." Let me break that rule again and give you another peak into how my brain works.
How I have heard this rule in my life: oversharing makes others uncomfortable, no one needs to know that about me, what am I trying to get out of it?, I am just looking for attention, I am just looking for validation outside myself, you can't say things that are weird, gross, shameful, triggering. How my brain works: WHAT THE FUCK AM I ACTUALLY ALLOWED TO SAY? Or, how the hell am I supposed to let people know who I am then? See, those things are all I really want to talk about. That's what makes me, me. What I expect to get out of it is that if I keep being my oversharing self then eventually I will find others that accept me as I am. Eventually, breaking that rule will lead me to my blue-skinned people (reference to Shel Silverstein.) I spent most of my life following the rule. Unsurprisingly, it led me to relationships that were with people who only liked the surface version of me that I presented. When I went deeper, when I began to overshare, these relationships fell apart. In my attempt to be the good "rule follower" each lost relationship was confirmation that I couldn't overshare. That rule felt valid. Then, I got tired. I got tired of being something everyone else wanted me to be. I awkwardly cried every time a weird, gross, shameful, or triggering thing (movie, book, conversation) touched on the tender spots in my heart that hid those very things that were a part of my soul. I cried over not being allowed to show myself to the world. The fatigue grew and grew until I knew I had two choices, continue to be a rule follower and slowly die a painfully shallow, numb existence or break free and risk losing everything. If you've been following my blog, you know that I chose door #2. The fascinating thing is that since oversharing in last week's post, I feel more free than ever. I have had some of those debilitating thoughts, but more often, I have had thoughts of self-love. Bringing my shame to light freed me - not only to become more me - but also to experience and recognize the truth that was hiding beneath the fear. I am okay to lose everyone in my life if need be because I finally have me.
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lThere are a few things in my life that I don't understand that everyone else seems to. Actually, probably more than a few but two of them feel more pronounced to me. Sarcasm and Othering.
Sarcasm (I'm going to lump teasing in with this one too). I hate it. I think it's just plain mean and I always have. There always felt like there was an element of truth in it and that people used it as a way to say what they really meant while still having the excuse of, "oh but I was just joking" if it didn't land well. I grew up around an extended family full of sarcasm. It was traumatic to not know what to believe. It left me feeling stupid most of the time. I often heard, "don't be so sensitive" or "I was just joking, jeez". If it was just a joke, why did it hurt so bad? Those were some of the moments that made me feel like I didn't belong. It seemed like everyone else was either in on the joke or understood when someone was being sarcastic. It seemed they didn't feel as hurt by it as I did. I felt too sensitive. I felt confused. And, I learned to play along. I learned to fit in and pretend it didn't hurt me. I even learned how to use sarcasm but every time I did I felt a part of my soul wither away. It just wasn't me. I felt cruel and deceitful when I did it. It has taken many years to unlearn this bad habit but I am in the process of living in integrity with myself and sarcasm has no place there. Othering. This has been something I have struggled with for years. I couldn't understand how people could judge one another based on one aspect of their life, because that's truly all othering is. They are republican therefore they are x, y, z. That person is autistic therefore they are x, y, z. That person is introverted therefore they are x, y, z. The list goes on. These are labels that I watch people use to distinguish themselves as different from the person they are othering. This is hurtful on so many levels even when the person that is being othered is placed on a pedestal. Othering allows us to see someone as less than human (or greater than ourselves). This othering is a slippery slope that lets people fall in to finding justification for being cruel to another or themselves. When we other, we stop seeing a person as an individual. We stop seeing their humanity. When we stop seeing their humanity, we stop being human to them. We justify laws that deny their basic fundamental rights. We justify refusing to allow them into our social circle. We even justify self-harm by way of eating disorders and addictions because we can't stand the judgements we place on ourselves for not being more like them. Othering has broken my heart since I was five years old crying into my dad's arms wondering, "why are people so mean to each other?" Just last week I cried into my own arms wondering, "why are people so mean to each other?" (This includes me being mean to others and myself. I am not exempt despite the way it breaks my heart.) Today I listened to a We Can Do Hard Things Podcast with Dr. Orna Guralnik. She offered up a reframe of othering that I appreciated and am excited to dive into for myself. She expressed the importance of othering in relationship. If we simply surrounded ourselves with people that are just like us, our world would be so boring. It's the variety that we bring to each other that gives life meaning. This got me to thinking differently about othering. I think it comes down to the way we are speaking about the 'others'. What if instead of saying, "they are a republican" and automatically assuming x, y, z about them, we said, "they believe in republican views, I wonder what else they believe in." Curiosity is the way of nature. Maybe if we began approaching others with curiosity instead of judgement we could find ourselves in a brand new landscape of relationships. Maybe we could start looking out for one another. Maybe we can begin to look for the humanity in each other first and allow judgement to be a tool we use to discern who we choose to be around and love while still honoring that other person (or other people) and all of who they are. I'm just so tired of being different. Scratch that. I'm just so tired of trying to fit in. Look y'all, if you use sarcasm on me, I will probably look at you funny wondering if you are being truthful or not and I certainly will not find it funny. Ever. And, if I hear you othering someone, I will continue to redirect the conversation. Yes - I have even redirected conversations about some of the most horrific evil-doers in history. They are all still human, whether we want to believe it or not and I believe it's important that we do. Which brings me to the topic of oneness-but that's a blog post for another day. Hurt people hurt people. It's true. I confess, I have been one of those hurt people. Still am sometimes. It's apparent every time I yell at my kids to clean their dishes to my standards exactly when I tell them to. There is wounding there that says, if they don't listen and follow direction, I am a bad mom. So, I take my pain out on them.
I have rewritten this next line a few times because I want to keep a comfortably safe distance between me and the shooter that opened fire on Club Q (a queer club) in Colorado Springs last week. But honestly, everyone's decisions start somewhere. I don't know the circumstances around his life. I don't know what led him to this horrific act. I do know that societal rhetoric is what leads me to yelling at my kids. I don't want to be perceived as a bad mom, so I have to control my surroundings. I have to control my kids. The societal rhetoric around gay people 'others' us. It says we are unholy; perverse; predators. A threat to society. Perhaps the shooter personally experienced this to be true. Is it unreasonable to imagine that he thought he may have been doing a service to society based on the beliefs he may hold? Beliefs that aligned with the societal rhetoric? Perhaps this was his way of controlling the kids. I may be going out on a limb. I may be stretching things here, but when I look at my own experience with the gay rhetoric, it doesn't feel so far fetched. I will spare details of my trauma as they are irrelevant, but at a young age I had multiple examples of proof that gay people were unholy, perverse, and predators. This proof led me to whole heartedly believe the rhetoric about gay people so deeply that I hid my sexuality from myself for 37 years. I may not have physically harmed another, but make no mistake, I have harmed myself and people around me that I love unintentionally and subconsciously to uphold the societal beliefs that surrounded me. If societal expectations are so strong that I believed the only thing that would keep me safe is hiding in the closet from everyone, including myself; is it unreasonable to imagine it can reinforce another's belief that killing the 'enemy' is the right thing to do? What if the only difference between the shooter and me is that I had supportive loved ones around me my whole life that continued to also provide an equally true rhetoric that all people are genuinely kind and good. What if he didn't? What if I didn't? Hurt people hurt people. And also, healed people heal people. Since coming out, I have discovered an amazing community that has supported me, accepted me, listened to me, and believed in my humanity. Some of them are my family and friends, but mostly they are others who were once like me. I am beginning to question a lot of universally accepted societal rhetoric, including the one that says the media focuses on tragedies because that's what keeps people watching. I call bullshit on this. I witnessed the story of My Year of Hugs go viral in 2012 with people reaching out from countries as far away as Vietnam and India. Universally we all desperately need and want more of the healed stories. We all desperately need a change in rhetoric across the board, in our media, our politics, our entertainment, our communities. We need a change in rhetoric that encourages unity, community, and most importantly love for all mankind. We need to be brave enough to look at the stories we are telling and question whether we even believe them anymore. The more of us willing to question, heal and change the stories, the more of us there are to support, accept, listen to, and believe others. I am certain the shooter needed it. Perhaps you do too. Why can't I do that? This is a question I have been asking others and myself for as long as I can remember. It seemed as though there were far too many universally accepted "rules" that I was simply expected to know. As a child when I broke one of these rules I was reprimanded with "you can't do that. You know better!" Whether it was asking someone about their pet that passed away or being curious about and touching a dangerous tool in my dad's garage. How was I supposed to know better if I had not already been given a book of the rules? Where was this book? How did everyone else know what these rules were? I felt frustrated, rebellious, and ashamed.
Why were these rules there in the first place? I needed to know so I asked over and over again. Why? "you just can't." Why? "Because if everyone broke the rules all hell would break loose." Why? "do you want it to be ok that people are just allowed to go around murdering each other?" What? That escalated fast. I learned to stop questioning. I learned to stop getting curious. I learned to follow the rules to a T. I became aggressively angry at anyone who DARED break the rules. The person in front of me that turned at the red light when there is a sign clearly stating, No Turn On Red? I get pissed. How dare they? The person that spoke out of turn in a meeting when everyone else was obviously following the rule to 'take turns'? What the fuck? My children that do not say, "how high?" when I say jump? Inconceivable. (sorry kids, I'm learning) On my quest for understanding the "rules" and why they were even there in the first place, I started breaking rules in ways that I thought could be acceptable and I was willing to risk it. The rule: "You can't follow your passion and be a good mom." Me: "But, I am going to hug people for a year and blog about it. Isn't that showing my kids the power of kindness? Besides, they will be with me the whole time." The rule followers: "That sounds ok." The rule: "You can't leave your children for a whole month to travel the country! Who will take care of them?" Me: "Their father has agreed to this adventure. He supports me and will continue to support his kids while I'm gone. Besides, I am on a mission to show others that people are all generally kind and good. Isn't that important in this day and age?" The rule followers: "Yeah, we see how that could be important." My reasoning was acceptable. I was given permission to break the rules. Which led me down a new rabbit hole. So, rules can be broken, but only in ways that are deemed acceptable by society? Who is this society? Why are they in charge of the rules? What happens if I break a rule that isn't deemed acceptable? Will I really be shunned? Is it truly as unsafe to break the rules as I have been led to believe? A few weekends ago I was at an Abraham Hicks workshop. If you are not familiar with them, check out one of their many free videos on YouTube. In the beginning of their Law of Attraction workshop, Esther (who channels the beings called Abraham) shared a video clip of the "rules" of the workshop. It was done in a super fun way explaining how people will be called upon and what they are to do in order to join Abraham on stage to get their questions answered. It was made clear that if you think you are being called to the stage, take a few steps forward and if it isn't you then you sit back down. They even made it a point to show someone who didn't follow the rules and continued to walk on stage anyway. Laughing, Esther said, "just don't be that person." Yes, they were rules; yes, they were important; and Esther wanted us to know that the vibe of the day would be fun within those rules. At the end of the day as the last person was called up, they were hesitant. They took a step forward then sat back down. At this point, Abraham was running the show in Esther's body (not as creepy as it sounds, you should really check them out!) and they said, "go ahead and stay sitting, I'm sure someone else wants to be on stage more." The person that sat back down had another change of heart and jumped back up saying, "no. I want to be up there." and her and Abraham began their back and forth spar. Meanwhile, a woman who had her hand raised the whole time began slow walking forward. She slowly walked past the woman arguing with Abraham, gingerly waiting for the moment Abraham told her to stop. As she made it past the bickering woman with no one stopping her yet, she looked out at the audience and gave a big mischievous smile. We all laughed. She continued while the bickering continued. This brazen woman made it all the way to the stage steps and... broke the rules. She stepped on stage and sat right down in the hot seat (that's what they called it). She took her place out of turn. She did the thing Esther warned not to do in the beginning of the workshop. The audience roared. Abraham turned to this woman now sitting in the hot seat and declared, "That is the best thing that has ever happened during one of our workshops." (they have been holding them for over 20 years) She broke the rules, got what she wanted, and the audience (well most of us) loved her for it. Abraham loved her for it. On that day she reminded me that the rule breakers are the ones who get noticed. They are the ones who make waves. They are the ones who create new rules. They are the ones living their best life despite what society deems as acceptable. They are the money makers, the world travelers, the inspirers, the icons, and the revolutionaries. They are the bad asses. I resonate with them. I am one of them dressed in sheep's clothing. It has taken me years to fine tune my sheep costume. It may take me years of tugging at the thread that will unravel it all, but make no mistake: The unraveling has started. I have set my inner navigational system to True North. It's leading me to a life of rule breaking and bad assery as mentioned in the previous post. I just have one big complication:
I have a deeeeeeeeeep rooted belief that if I don't follow the rules I will be unloved, misunderstood, rejected, and become a social pariah. I will not belong. As a human being, I am wired for this belonging and it feels so unsafe to move beyond the "rules" that any attempt at rule breaking causes me to do one of the F's. (fight, flight, freeze, fawn). Last night, I fought. Today, I have frozen with a massive desire to flee. Is there such a thing as too much grace? I feel I continue to give myself grace over and over again during these times and then worry I have allowed grace to become another crutch, another explanation (to myself) of why I am not taking action on following my True North. But, many days just feel hard. Even on the days when it's not hard, I feel like I'm spinning my wheels toward a goal that seems to stay *just* out of reach. I often wonder, "Is this what it's like to be normal?" "Will I even recognize a life that is not lived in survival mode?" "Am I really that far off the mark from the people I admire? Or, are they just like me with a bit more chutzpah?" I think "normal" is just a perceived expectation of what it looks like when we follow the rules. I tried on normal. It really didn't fit me well no matter how many times I altered it. I am beginning to understand that perhaps the days that feel hard are not because I'm doing something wrong but because I'm doing something very right. I'm unraveling the thread of the sheep's costume and allowing myself to become more naked and exposed. Vulnerable. It's unknown space and the more I recognize this, the more I feel a different standard of grace. One that allows for action rather than reaction. It is the grace that appreciates the safety measures my body has in place while continuing to lean into the unknown rather than retreating. The trauma response in the body is real y'all. It is convincing. It powerfully stands guard at the doorway to freedom with prophesies of the many varieties of death available to me if I so much as twist the doorknob. I am not strong enough to slay the trauma response on my own. My new standard of grace includes all the tools I have learned and the community I have built as a shield that protects me as I crack open the door for a peek at the unknown I am destined for. I have been terrified to write this blog post. Even as I was scrolling through my pictures deciding which one to use, my hands started to shake (they still are), my stomach got queasy, my entire body tensed up and I felt my face begin to flush. If you are not familiar with nervous system dis-regulation you may not be aware that I was in fact activating my f-responses. Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Let me share how that shows up in my thought process:
I can totally write about how fucked up it is that I was taught all my life it wasn't ok to demand or even request attention without being shamed (fight) I could wait another week until I feel more ready to write this blog post (flight) I don't really have anything to say so maybe I won't write a post at all (freeze) Ok, wait. I can write about the ways I like to seek attention and how that's good and important because I can use it to benefit the greater good of humanity (fawn) The truth of the matter is I freaking love attention. I love being the center of attention. I love being known and seen and heard by masses of people. I have been this way since I came out of the womb, I'm certain of it. But, it was shamed out of me before I even hit 1st grade. I know this because of my response when I was given the opportunity to be Cinderella in the school play. It was perfect. A role that I was born to play. As I sat staring at the large script of lines I had to memorize, a friend(?) leaned over and said, "you know, Cindy really wanted that part." I already felt like the outsider in this classroom after having been pulled from another because they didn't have enough books for me to read. I was desperate to fit in. I looked again at the large script and made it make sense in my mind to give up my dream role. I'm not sure I can memorize that many lines anyway She will probably do a better job Everyone would probably rather see her up there than me, everyone already likes her If I don't give it to her everyone will probably be mad at me and then no one will ever like me Besides, she is prettier than me I also knew that my selfless act of giving up the role to her would allow me to be perceived as a kind, generous person who is worthy of being liked. So, I handed the script over to her squeals of "really? oh my gosh, thank you so much!" And, instead I played the supporting role of raccoon with only one line. I regret that to this day. Yes, my hug journeys were a way of attracting the attention I was desperate for. And also, yes, they helped to serve the greater good of humanity. Which has led me to wonder... What if my innate desire for attention is the exact formula I need within myself to be able to make the impact on this world I came here for? And also, what if I can just accept being someone who craves attention? Who can I become in embracing this beautiful gift? What if the only impact I make in embracing this shameful side of myself is that I create a life that makes me feel happy and fulfilled? Isn't that enough? |
AuthorMelinda Lee is a mom of two adolescent boys, a devout student of all things spiritual, a recovering perfectionist, and immensely fascinated with achieving the unachievable. Currently writing a memoir about hugging strangers. Archives
February 2023
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