The Only Question is Why

    A few weeks ago, I read two lists to my therapist. One was of things I can and cannot control. The other was about the way I treat others vs. the way I treat myself. The former wasn’t exceptionally long, and included things like personal boundaries, the way I treat others, other people’s opinions of me. The latter was a little longer, more specific and the more thought-provoking of the two. Some of these things might sound a little narcissistic, arrogant, pathetic and stupid. But believe me, I know everyone doesn’t need me. I know the world would get along just fine without me.

 

Boundaries

    With regards to personal boundaries, the biggest problem I have is setting them. I’m not good at it and the last few times I’ve set them, I’ve been told they’re unfair, unreasonable or have been asked to explain why I’ve set said boundary. Often times, the next thing I do is lift the boundary. I believe if I’m told it isn’t okay, then I somehow messed up and don’t deserve to be respected. I’m conflict avoidant and if removing the boundary means there won’t be an argument, I do it. 

    On the contrary, when others tell me where they draw the line, when I’ve gone too far or what boundary they’re setting, I do my best to accept and respect it. Sometimes it comes with explanation, sometimes not. Sometimes I understand it, sometimes I don’t. But I try to treat others with respect, even if I disagree or am unhappy.

    Part of setting boundaries is saying no. Frequently and without hesitation, I agree to do things for others, help when and how I can. I’ve struggled for years with feeling like if I say no, I’m going to disappoint someone. I’m going to lose a friend. I’m going to let them down. I’m being selfish. Many times, I say yes despite already being exhausted, and later find myself wondering why I said yes. Sure, I could reach out to the person and say I’ve changed my mind but I become overwhelmed with guilt. Chances are, most of the time, people will understand and not be upset. But I talk myself out of doing it because I feel as though I’m not being honorable or respectable by taking back my word. Telling myself no comes easily. I tell myself not to rest or take a break, knowing it’s needed. I tell myself my needs and wants are not as important as those of others. I tell myself no to saying no to others. I feel that if I tell someone no, they’re going to abandon me. The reality is by saying no to myself, the only one abandoning me is me.

 

Honesty and Integrity

    Among the values I hold, honesty and integrity are two of the most important. One reason I don’t lie is because I can’t. I don’t have a poker face and people see right through me. I’m also not good at poker. I feel an incredible amount of guilt when I even think about lying. I find it to be highly disrespectful and believe everyone deserves to be respected. Everyone except me.

    I try to act with integrity at all times. I know right from wrong. I know when I’m helping or hurting. I’m not always vocal about the things I agree or disagree with because, again, this might cause conflict. Instead, I try to do things that exemplify kindness, understanding, comfort and love. Everyone says actions speak louder than words, right? I can act with integrity without saying it. I am not saying every decision I make and everything I do is right or correct, but I know that I am putting forth an honest effort to do my best.

    No matter how much I want to be an example to others, I don’t treat myself with the same integrity. I am not kind to myself. I’m not understanding of myself when make mistakes. I don’t comfort myself when I know that is all I need. I don’t say I love myself. Simply put, I do not treat others the way I treat myself. Because that wouldn’t be nice. This is not behaving with integrity. It is not honest. I’m depriving myself of the very values that I believe everyone else deserves.

    I believe that somewhere deep within myself, I can find the strength and courage to get honest, tell myself what I need, and give it to myself. If it’s not something I can provide for myself, I’ll seek out and use the best resource I can find. I’ll tell myself I deserve it. I’ll tell myself I’m worth it. I’ll tell myself it won’t be burdensome. I know I need to treat myself with integrity and put forth the same effort with myself as I do with others.

    I know the things I should be doing to take care of myself and I don’t do them. I feel like I’m not important enough to be taken care of. I feel like taking care of myself means not taking care of someone else. I feel like I’m being selfish. And if I decided to truly be honest with myself, I might discover that none of these things are true. I have friends who are more than willing to be honest with me, and that’s when I tell them I don’t want to talk to them anymore. It’s never permanent – I always go back. But acknowledging the honest things means I need to make a change. The changes are usually challenging, but not impossible, and yet I tell myself I’m not capable of making them.

 

Kindness

    Each day I wake, I remind myself how important it is to be kind to others. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt someone. Who wants to be hurt? I decide how I treat others and it’s important that I’m kind, whether it be holding a door for the person behind me or sending a text just because I’m thinking about someone. I tell my kids they don’t need to be friends with everyone in their class, but they always have to be kind. People remember when they’ve been treated with kindness as much as when they’ve been treated poorly.

    I think everyone, including myself, could be a little kinder. As important as it is for me to be kind to others, I’m not kind to myself. I know how to be kind. I know it’s necessary to be kind. I know it’s right to be kind. I feel like I’ve done nothing to deserve any more kindness than anyone else. Even in instances where I know the kindness I’m receiving is sincere, I wonder why it’s happening and if it’s really meant for me.

    Instead of being kind to myself, I’m critical. I tell myself I’m not good enough, no matter how much I do, no matter how well I do it. I tell myself I could have done better and should have done better. I tell myself I have to keep being and doing more. I tell myself I need to earn kindness.

 

Compliments and Criticism

    I’m quick to give compliments to other people and slow to give them to myself. I tell others they’re smart, funny, beautiful and how much I admire them. I tell people I love them. I tell people how good they are at various things. I try to emphasize their best qualities, both inside and outside. Meanwhile, I’m telling myself the opposite.  

    The list of critical things I say to myself on a daily basis goes something like this - I’m not pretty. I’m not a good mother. I don’t matter. I’m a burden to everyone and a waste of time. I don’t deserve anything good. I don’t deserve to treat myself or do self-care. Whatever I’ve done anyone else could have, and would have, done better. I should be more talented. I’m not good at anything. There is no reason to love myself or for anyone else to love me because I’m not special in any way. No one really needs me because anything I can offer can easily be found elsewhere. I’m not any more capable than anyone else.

    I don’t hate everything about myself, and I can actually name a few things I like. I think I have pretty eyes. I’m funny. I’m a good employee. I tell my kids I love them every day, just so they never forget, and I never turn them away when they ask for a hug. I keep my promises.

 

Try to picture this –

You’re on the edge of a lake, placing a bobber on your line and bait on your hook. You move your arm backward and thrust it forward, casting your line into the water as far and as deep as you can and await the perfect catch. You know the hook is baited correctly. You know there are plenty of fish to catch. But while everyone is catching fish big enough to feast on, all you’re catching is small fish that you release back into the lake. These fish aren’t good enough. They’re not big enough. They’re useless.

You keep casting your line, hoping one fish you catch will be good enough, big enough and worth something. But every time you feel the tug on your line, you reel it in to find that, once again, it’s nothing but disappointment.

You keep waiting to feel the tug that’s almost impossible to yank above the water. When you finally feel it, you can all but hear your line breaking as you try to bring it in. It takes a lot of effort. A lot of strength. A lot of persistence. And finally, you find a strength from deep within, give it all you’ve got and you yank that sucker out of the water and reel it in.

You suddenly feel a sense of pride, perhaps some relief. You finally feel capable and good enough.

 

    This is the kind of strength I’m searching for. The big fish. The only question remaining, if it does indeed lie within me, is why haven’t I found it? Why does it seem like I can’t find it?