My favorite game to play with people has always been “questions”. Basically it consists of me asking a million and one questions until my nosey apatite is satisfied. When I had sleepovers with my childhood friends, I would make everyone, (I was nosey and bossy) write down questions and put them in a hat. The game then obviously consisted of you answering the question you drew out of the hat. As I have gotten older that game has progressed into what can be a relentless beating until I am happy with the answer. It is not, however, a one-sided game. I am more than happy to answer the questions I am asked. Being an open book has always been one of my best and worst qualities. I will answer pretty much anything asked of me, honestly, except one very simple question, “what is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you?” I will usually say, “I fell cheering during a game once,” or, “I spilled a cup of hot coffee all over an elderly lady waitressing one day”, and while those instances weren’t fun, I don’t get embarrassed over things like that at all.
If I were to answer that question honestly, which I guess I am doing now, the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me, and seems to continue to happen to me, is my standards. The seemingly ever- descending set of standards I have for myself, and the people I allow into my life. I have had my share of crappy friends (who hasn’t), but why it takes me so long, and so many heartaches, and disappointments, to get to the point where I have had enough; enough embarrassment and humiliation to remember I matter, and I need to be done, boggles me.
I think about this a lot; I pray about it a lot. My question (of course there ’s another question) to God is always the same, how did this happen? When did this happen? I look back and can’t find Freudian insight into where I was neglected or abandoned, or where my needs weren't meet and I became dependent on someone else meeting them. I was raised with the best example of a woman I could have asked for. Dependency and vulnerability outside of what is endearing in a person wasn’t modeled for me. My mother was incredibly strong, and able to admit weaknesses, but she didn’t tolerate disrespect from anyone at the risk of not having someone in her life. There was a time that neither did I. There was a time when I considered myself the strongest person I knew, and although I was forgiving beyond what was necessary at times, I was okay with that. I owned it as a part of who I was, and it made me feel good to know I was following the path Jesus laid before me….
What scares me, what saddens me, is that that ability and genuine desire to forgive, has somehow shifted into my accepting what treatment I’m handed, until I reach a breaking point of feeling completely disrespected, demeaned, embarrassed, brushed aside, or the worst out of all of them, afraid to even look at myself in the mirror because I am so disgusted with that I am allowing to take place in my life. I find myself saying ridiculous things to justify another person’s actions. In relationships, “well, he doesn’t hit me or call me names, I wouldn’t tolerate that.” In my friendships, “well, I know my dad just died but she has a lot on her plate so it’s okay she was nowhere to be found.” Why? What purpose does it serve to have people in my life that are counterproductive and don’t seem to appreciate the position anyways? At some point we all have to grow up and stop choosing who we meet for coffee based on wanting to have a date for prom and friends to sit at lunch with. I am not at an age where friendship is entirely based on proximity, and whoever sits next to me in fourth period English is my best friend that year. Boyfriends should not be chosen based purely on the height requirement. I am blessed, beyond blessed, to finally have found a support system of friends that set the standard higher than I even imagined it could be, but I am not so lucky in the relationship world.
I don’t want to berate the relationships I have been involved in ,or demean their character anonymously because some of them were incredible people and at one point or another in our journey together showed me what it means to be in a healthy, loving relationship; but most of them have been, quite frankly, a complete waste of time. I hate when I hear people say, “Well, they taught me what I don’t want in a relationship”. Really? Did I need to be cheated on to learn I don’t want that? I know the divorce had a larger impact on me than I admitted, or maybe I'm just now realizing for myself. However dysfunctional a marriage between two young people can be, at the end of the day, I really, really wanted us to make it. He was a horrible partner. He drank and lied and cheated and spent money he didn’t have. He allowed me to work three jobs, go to school, take care of the house, and the dog he wanted that I didn’t, all while driving an hour and a half from a military base to do it. I realize no one deserves to be treated like that, but we made a promise before God to love and honor each other forever, and one of us took that seriously.
The divorce, well, I guess more so the marriage completely broke me down. The eating disorder was the easy part of those years for me, and it is so difficult for me to look back at the treatment I accepted. I tell myself all the things I would tell my client, people treat you the way you let them, you give people the power to hurt you, etc. etc. It is different when you are the one involved in the whole sloppy mess. That is something I need to remember as a therapist, and it is something I try to remember as a person. I guess at some point in the recovery from the devastation that was that divorce, I let my standards for what is acceptable and what isn’t take a complete nosedive. I will justify it all by saying, I’m busy, I’m pursuing a career, I don’t have time to offer more of a commitment than I already am, but that’s crap, you find the time when you find the person worth finding the time for. Maybe I haven’t found that person, or maybe I have and he hasn’t found me. All I know is, as hard as it might be, as difficult and lonely as it can sometimes feel, being with someone who doesn’t put you in the same position in their lives that you put them in yours is WAY lonelier than having no one at all.
Maybe it’s time I revert back to myself for that relationship, maybe I need to date myself and remember what it is I am worth before I cheat on myself with someone less deserving again. Maybe those amazing friends that make every single day better deserve the effort I put into wasted space put into them. Maybe I should call my mother right now and thank her for not only showing me what it is like to fall, but that it is entirely possible to get back up, stronger and more ready than before. Maybe I should pray, and ask a different set of questions. Questions like, “how do I move forward from here?” A little less, “Why?” “How?” “When?” and a lot more, “What now?”
