Foreword: I put this on entry ice after I wrote it because I am afraid that people in my life will take it personally when it's not meant that way. I hate girl drama and I think it's immature and unacceptable to call anyone out in my blog. While I am shy, I will buck up and voice my feelings when I feel someone is wronging me . . . just ask Klucker. I wrote this on a day that I needed a pity party, but in accordance with my typical m.o. I sucked it up and dealt with it, only straying from my normal behavior by gorging on mozzarella sticks and diet coke at lunch. So I fully admit that often times I'm at fault because I am a pleaser who won't tell people what I need or want. Instead I'll smile and say "sure chocolate cake is fine" when I truly, truly prefer white.
I watch television. And I like to watch television. So everyone out there who thinks that means I'm weak-minded, lacking intellectual capability, or just plain fluffy can stop reading now. I don't get to sit down and watch my favorite shows very often, so I am a frequent DVR user. That also means I am weeks upon weeks behind in watching one of my favorite shows, one of which is Bones. The episode I watched last night probably aired six to eight weeks ago. In the closing scene, Booth and Brennan are talking about the possibility that they may eventually date. Brennan tells Booth that she is becoming strong. She goes on to say she used to be impervious, meaning she was unable to be hurt, but now she is becoming strong because she is losing her imperviousness.
The scene got me thinking about how we (the ubiquitous we) treat people. Is strength sometimes confused for imperviousness? I think about my relationships, what do I take for granted? Do I extol bad behavior because I assume it doesn't bother the receiver? Is that person really just incredibly strong, so they use resolve to power through the hurtfulness?
Several years ago I made a conscious decision to have more friends. I was at a point in my life where I was a new mother, working 60-80 hours a week, and one crisis away from therapy and Zoloft. I had (have) a supportive family, but sometimes a body just needs girlfriends. As someone who is painfully shy--I know that's hard to believe--I put myself out there. I interjected myself into uncomfortable situations and tried new things so that I could meet new people and hopefully make friends. For the most part, my risks have paid off. I can't say the trip has been tailwinds and sunshine the whole way.
A couple of months ago, a friend referred to me as a "bootstrap girl." What she meant was that I'm someone who doesn't wallow in my problems, instead I pull myself up and attack them. That can be a good or bad thing. It's good in the fact that I get things accomplished. I don't sit around and wait for three boats to rescue me while I sit on the roof of my flooded house; I build my own raft and set sail for dry ground. One of the bad things though, I think, is that people around me don't realize how fragile I sometimes am. They're unaware that my feelings are easily hurt when they don't return calls or emails. They don't know that I need them to defend me when I'm attacked by mean girls. They didn't see the stress I was under as I job-hunted and looked for ways to maintain my family's normalcy. I think, to some degree, they think me impervious.
While there are days I wish I was impervious, I think feeling sadness or stress or grief is good. Without knowing how bad it can be, I would never enjoy the good times I typically have. That being said, I sometimes long for acknowledgement that some days my life sucks too. I sometimes need to have a pity party without feeling that someone is going to "one up" my tribulation. I sometimes need chocolate chip cookie dough, a spoon, and a hug.
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