We were talking about battles yesterday, or perhaps the misuse (or at least misinterpretation) of that word. Right now, when I consider battles, I think about the Ukrainians. I think about trans and queer kids living in Florida and Texas, or really, anywhere. I think about so much strife and so many tough and rather disastrous situations. Heartbreak. Grief. Fear. I don’t really think about defending my singlehood at 41 to the world.
And yet, one of the most common expressions utilized to describe our own personal thoughts and feelings, employs the word battle. Why is that? Well, although I think the interpretation could be taken to an extreme, I think the phrase is meant to evoke a sensation of some small (or more significant) measure of conflict.
The question we would ask ourselves is what are we prepared to fight for and on what ground do we stand? Are you wondering how I’m going to get back to where we started? Don’t. I’ll get there. I know this route feels circuitous, but it’s not. It’s rather direct. I just need to wrap this up a bit and then I will personally and painstakingly walk you through the connection.
I used to subscribe to the notion of picking one’s battles. I suppose I thought that not picking meant arguing about everything. I feel like I am difficult enough. Why invite further strife into my life? Why make things more challenging when I’m already thought to be problematic?
I know, right about now, you might be wanting to reach through the screen and throttle me. Here I am, regularly proselytizing about how to live your best, most fulfilled, most confident life, and now I’m telling you that I’m a handful. I am. But also, I’m not. I’m making a point, so just hang in, please.
These are simply the thoughts that run through my head. I am scared, in the most generic fashion. I am afraid that if I raise my hand and step forward, proclaiming my dislike or divergent opinion, I will mark myself as impossible. Everyone around me will think me too much and will just avoid conversation and engagement altogether. I don’t want to be that human who makes something out of everything, so does that mean I have to make nothing out of everything?
No. There is a middle ground here. What’s more is that the middle ground does sometimes mean making something out of everything. It’s a moment-by-moment decision. You must take your own pulse and decide in a moment what a person or situation or place or thing mean to you. You also must give yourself grace to change your mind or adjust based on what you learn or experience.
Sorry, you don’t have to, except that if you want to find the middle, you sort of must. You cannot shrink or give into that cringe feeling or back-off due to fear. You must plow forward as if your life depends on it, because, well, it does.
I truly believe that there is great value in exploring everything as it arises. I don’t know if there are many situations in life that can be painted with the same broad stroke or considered in the context of a box. There may be some, except that I don’t think you’ll really know that until you break it all down. Once you face a situation and consider the elements and take your temperature, you might realize that you feel the same as ‘that other time’, but you can’t make that final assessment unless the exercise has been run through to completion.
I have been speaking in generalities for some time now and it might be time for specifics, or examples. I am going to start with a story about a friend and then I will move onto a very personal story. I have a friend who values cleanliness and orderliness. Right, I get it, we all do. But this friend values such things in a way that is perhaps on another level. I would go so far as to say that her mental health depends on such things. If she is most loyal to herself and her needs, she will acknowledge that there are no scenarios under which she can really have people in her life that do not respect this aspect of her personality. Bending or picking battles under the guise of being more agreeable, in the context of disorder or mess or sloppiness or slovenliness, is likely going to end in severe mental and emotional distress.
She might advise that a boyfriend tends to leave dirty dishes in the sink or forget to take his shoes off by the door and she is trying to pick her battles in that regard. She is trying to sort out which of those offenses, and many others, should be pointed to or raised, and which should be left behind. Which battles should she pick? All of them. She must pick all of them. As much as she might want to change, she is who she is, and if that human is going to share her life, they will have to accept that this is a thing. A real thing.
Is there any room for compromise? Sure. There might be situations whereas she advises her significant other that she can accept that he does something, like leaving a leafed through magazine crookedly on a table, so long as he can accept that she will likely have to straighten it to calm her mind.
Change, if it is to occur, does not come from serving others. Meaningful change comes from self-revelations and commitments and teeny, tiny baby steps.
Let’s move on to me, because it IS my blog, is it not? I cannot stomach being deeply connected to others who are careless with commitments. I am fine if we are friendly or acquaintances. Call six months from now, text randomly, or send me an out-of-the-blue message on Instagram. All good. However, if we are super tight, don’t even try it. I’ve come to realize that I can’t tolerate that behavior because of all the rejection I’ve suffered in my life. Inconsistency or a failure to deliver on promises can only be stomached or swallowed if it comes from someone who doesn’t mean much. If you have any intention of being a real player in my life, I need you to be real. There is no way around that. The compromise? Acknowledgment. I don’t need you to call all the time or even when you have promised to. Just let me know that you are checked out or busy elsewhere and will revert at some later date. Just remember me, and we are likely all good.
x.
L
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