I wanted to continue what I started yesterday but as is the way of things, something came up that demanded my more immediate attention.
In thinking about it, I am sticking with my theme. Complicated humans. The incredibly challenging task of surviving. Nuance. Depth. I suppose it’s just an issue of not sharing the narrative I had originally intended.
Anyway…
I found out earlier today that a friend and colleague had finally received the recognition she so richly deserves. She and I shared that the moment felt bittersweet because in all honesty, it’s hard to process events when they’ve been bitterly fought for and the result is long overdue. Sure, there’s gratitude and joy, but it’s tinged with a wanting, a neediness.
When you’ve had to beg for a thing, when you’ve had to excuse and explain and justify, does that thing feel hard won or just kind of gross and anti-climactic? Well, the answer is that there is no easy answer. It’s a messy business. I think the toughest part is that you want so badly to feel purely good about the thing. You want to feel unabashed happiness. You want to feel seen. You want to feel like it all made sense and the timing was perfect and the universe is delivering on a promise whispered into the wind.
It doesn’t work that way though, not really.
I remember when I found out that a long-ago ex was planning on proposing. This majestic event was slated for approximately two years after I started disliking him for his raging infidelity and substance abuse issues and general neglect. Don’t get me wrong, I complacently parked myself in his life for those two years, but then, BOOM. Splash of cold water to the face. A shared intimacy of the boldest category. An event that was supposed to be kept close to the vest. A secret, revealed.
I almost made a statement that you can’t stay in status quo when faced with such a decision, but that’s not true. The human psyche finds the most staggering ways to sabotage the spirit. I could have been one of those women who was too tired to say no. Too scared of the alternative (a life spent alone, without a partner). Too anxious to ask myself how I really felt and resigned myself to what others would see. A long relationship finally consummated in the way everyone wants everything to happen. Conform or wilt. Meld or become unimportant.
I couldn’t do it. Not because I’m so strong and so special. Nope. Just because I had hit my own personal threshold for bullshit. I didn’t want to end my relationship; I just didn’t want to commit to forever just yet. I wasn’t ready. We were newly back together, and I was still trying to wrap my brain around whether things had changed. Of course, I knew they hadn’t, but steeped in denial, everything seems a bit fuzzy. I knew enough though. So, I didn’t say no. I just said, not right now, please and thank you. Well, that sent things into a shit spiral. Beyond.
How dare I punt? How dare I need more time when I was finally getting everything I had always wanted and wished for? How ungrateful! How misguided! How sad!
Um, really?
No. I should have walked away sooner. The planned proposal wasn’t a gift, it was a presumption. It was a kick in the teeth just as I was crawling back up from the last knock-out. It was a sign. I really despise the idea of such things, “signs”, but if ever there were one, this would be it.
It may not be what you are thinking though. I wasn’t thinking that I was being shown that this man wasn’t ever intended to be my future. It wasn’t a message that things that matter shouldn’t require effort and heart and sweat. No way.
I needed to understand that sometimes we don’t get what we want (often) and sometimes we do, and it’s not as we expected, and sometimes we do and it’s as we expected, and it still feels like shit. So complicated, right? I told you. That’s where we started this discussion. The messy business that is being a human.
Our society will tell you that things should mostly be felt in a black and white manner. We’ve spoken about this before. There is little gray to consider. You must pick a side and reside there, come what may. I’ve already expressed that I truly think that paradigm is a steaming pile of horseshit. If we acknowledge that we are complex entities (we ARE), then how can we deny that middle ground?
Even if you are a more linear thinker, you’ve never had a moment where things seem uncertain? Never? You know what that looks like? Happiness for a couple even though you don’t understand their dynamic or you know one half is settling. Joy for someone getting a new job even though it sounds horrifying. Excitement over the purchase of a first home, even though it seems to be a money pit. There is contentment, but it is seasoned with the reality of things.
The real issue isn’t the quieting or morphing of emotions, but rather, the line. At what point are the contrasting facts so profound that they overtake the positive? When does something that should be good become something that leaves a bad taste in your mouth? If you’ve reached that point, is it truly one of no return, or is there some space for you to about face or reconsider? Can we reshape our thoughts and feelings in a way that is genuine and long lasting, or does such an exercise always result in fakeness and soul-crushing compromise?
I don’t know the answers. I guess I’m still trying to figure all of that out. That’s why my friend and I spent so long speaking about moving up the ladder, so to speak. We explored all the good stuff. We touched on the power of the recognition, the credibility, the authority. We acknowledged the impact of such on the people we share our lives with, like our families and friends. We celebrated the opportunities that might be forthcoming or at the very least, the doors that would not be shut. We didn’t lament accountability, as that has never been an issue.
And yet, the messaging was challenging. The timing was brutal. The fact pattern was nearly impossible to ignore. We just wanted to celebrate but, at what cost? We were made to feel unsure of our deservedness. We were made to feel uncertain of our value. We were made to prepare ourselves for imminent disappointment. And yet when that dissatisfaction did not present [this time], there was still disenchantment. There is the waiting of the other shoe to drop and the expectation of relentless appreciation. There is the knowledge that it came so easy to so many others. There is the understanding that it will likely never come again and might even be weaponized if the need arises.
I feel lucky to have this friend for so many reasons, but right now, the sharpest point of focus is the ability to speak freely, without fear of judgment. She is on the same page, and so, there will be no time in which we will question each other’s reluctance to celebrate without hesitation. We allowed each other mixed emotions. We permitted each other to be over the moon and, intensely sorrowful. It’s complicated, we tearfully and wordlessly said to one another in the quiet of our respective spaces.
I suppose the question that follows, is whether there is a refinement of this emotion over time? Do we shake off the resistance and the letdown to welcome in something lighter? Is the thing always colored by what we’ve been through?
You might imagine that there is no one clear cut answer here. There is no right or wrong or “always goes this way” at all. It’s a roller coaster. Sometimes we can immediately sever the ties that bind us to negativity and sometimes we have a more difficult time shaking loose. Sometimes we’ve gotten to a good place and then the universe brings us back through a series of unfortunate encounters. Yeah, like I said, it’s not clear, at all.
It was strange for me, because in this case, I was contemplating my friend’s reaction and feelings and then also, having all the feelings of my own. I was thinking about my own situation and, I was feeling a more effusive compassion. Not the quiet sympathy or empathy that results in elongated silence and thoughtful consideration. Nope. The kind that you choke on. The sort that bubbles up from your guts and threatens to spill out in a torrent of ‘what the fuck’s and ‘I’m sorry’s. You know what I mean, right? It’s a congratulations with a disclaimer. The expression of pride with a caveat, the notion that it’s almost too little and most certainly, too late.
Where am I going with all of this? Well, I know in these situations, there are a lot of folks that would tell either one of us to focus on the positive. They would say that they understand that there are tough bits, but that the good outweighs the bad (said with conviction, of course) that thus, that should be where we allow our energy to reside.
Push aside feelings of inadequacy and frustration and focus solely on the outcome. The means are irrelevant, and it is merely a discussion on the ends.
Okay. Sure. Will do.
Really?
Well, I’m not sure. What if all the dark clouds are knowingly and purposefully pushed aside such that we can bask in the glow of the bright, adoring sunshine? Fanfuckingtastic. How long can we savor that comfort and warmth? If something else happens that is reminiscent of whatever colored the experience to begin with, are we starting over? Are things contemplated anew? Have we wiped our memory banks clean and so, we are beginning with the freshest slate there ever was?
The same colleague and I were having a silly (and much lighter) conversation about tenure at the company. She was remarking that there were some folks that had left the company for a period and then come back, and when reflecting on their years of service, they neglected to consider any absence. Ten plus three years? Nope. Thirteen years. Or more audaciously, sixteen years, counting the years in between when they were decidedly at another institutions. She compared this misguided recounting of so-called ‘loyalty’ to the couples who do the same thing. Harry and Sally broke up for ten years, but you bet your ass that they tell people they’ve been together for twenty-five years. The in-between time is an unmentioned technicality.
On one hand, there’s no harm there, right? It’s just a silly thing that doesn’t really hurt anyone. But then, you think about the time in the middle. The missing years. Are we to forget them altogether? Does the loyalty and the sense of togetherness and the tenure and the dedication hold the same value when you consider the break? The space?
Perhaps it’s difficult for you to weave these thoughts together. I admit that sometimes I let my brain run amuck and then I catch up later. Let me explain.
How do we retain enough to respond appropriately and with experiential conviction, without tanking a thing that might have a very merry silver lining? Can we allow ourselves the freedom to explore that which is upsetting without it completely coloring a spot of joy?
I have found, as described above, that speaking with others who are experiencing the same situation helps. A lot. Being honest. Not tentatively honest. Not caring too much what the other person thinks, honest. The kind of honest that might involve curse words or ugly tears or a torrent of frustration. I like the benefits afforded by sleeping on an issue. I mean it. Resting on it. Pausing. Giving it thoughtful consideration. Not just a pause. Hell, there’s nothing wrong with creating a pros and cons list. It’s an age-old approach because it works. It’s a thing.
The most basic part of this is accepting that things are often not all good or all bad. We can experience something that we’ve been waiting for, breath held, and be simultaneously excited and completely wrecked by it. We can be pleased with and proud of ourselves and feel like shit because there are things held back. We can accept a thing and reserve the right to change our mind about it down the road.
I’m sure none of this is revelatory but it’s a thing. It’s a state. It’s a reality. We have all these life events that are tossed our way, and we will be told to jump for joy. Be grateful. Be enlightened. Leave the darkness behind. And we can attempt to do that. We can shake off the real itchy, crappy feelings, but we can let crumbs remain. Remnants. Not to bask in unhappiness or dissatisfaction, but as evidence of who we were and who we are and who we want to be.
Feel me?
X
L.
P.S. Congratulations to my dear friend. You know who you are….
Too little. Too late. Beyond well-deserved. You are a living, breathing lesson in humility and grace, in the face of horrifying and unjust diminishment. ❤
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