When I was 8 I got stung by a bee. My friends and I were playing ‘kick the can’ in the alley between our houses, and after the can-kicker tagged me, I was sitting around waiting for the next game to start when, “Ow. OW! Owie, owie, owiiiiiie!”
I ran screaming to the front door of my friend’s house where her mom met me, ushered me inside, and started triage. She extracted the stinger, rinsed the area, applied meat tenderizer (?) and in no time I was as good as new.
I cruised back out to the alley to await the start of the next game when I heard my friend’s mom shout from the house, “Lynda!” She was a calm, quiet, non-yeller so it startled me. “Yeah?” I replied. “MOVE!” She shrieked. “You’re going to get stung again!”
For there I was, in the exact same spot, awaiting the exact same fate I had suffered moments before. Why? I was 8 and didn’t know any better.
But I’m not 8 now…and you aren’t 8 either, yet we often fail to, as my therapist would say, “Get out of the way of the chamber pot.” (That’s the thing renaissance folk used to shite in at night. The contents of which would be thrown out the window the next morning. And if you were anywhere in the vicinity, you might be the unlucky target of falling feces.)
(QUICK SHOWER)
So, what makes us come back for more after taking a hit? Or why are we, at the very least, not careful enough with our precious selves to avoid the second sting? (Or seventeenth.)
I have some ideas! Here’s a handful:
WE’RE OBEDIENT: This often starts when we’re kids. If you think back on your childhood, you might recall situations where you just went along with something because you simply weren’t in charge. And it might not have had anything to do with an adult abusing their power. It could have just been a bratty older sibling or tyrant peer…the latter was my experience, but there was a perceived hierarchy and you dutifully followed it.
WE DON’T WANT TO HURT SOMEONE’S FEELINGS: Are you raising your hand? Yeah. I see you. And this is a good thing. It means we aren’t psychopaths. We love people and have empathy. But empathizing to our own detriment is never a good thing, can actually hurt the people we are trying to protect, and ultimately isn’t even empathy…empathy is mutual, and mutual requires considering your feelings too.
WE FEEL OBLIGED: (My personal kryptonite.) Someone did a nice thing, stuck their neck out for you, was generous, and maybe you didn’t even ask (beware the uninvited favor) and now you’re feeling all “Quid pro quo, Clarice.” This is a tricky one because, sure, you want to return a kindness, but when the giver starts getting gross about giving it was likely a setup. Perhaps an unintended setup, but a setup just the same. (This also applies to non-givers for whom you feel responsible.)
WE’RE TRYING TO BELONG: A dear friend once said to me, “Lynda, you don’t have to show up early AND bring brownies.” I was in this peer group that I felt totally awestruck by. I thought they were all cooler, more talented, wittier, etc…than I was and I was exhausting myself trying to gain entry. And I was already in! But I didn’t feel worthy and was over and over and overcompensating. Oddly, that kind of behavior tends to get you ousted. (The ugly irony for non-acknowledgers-of-self.)
WE’RE CONTROLLING THINGS: You want things the way you want them? Manipulate, Mary! Just keep trying stuff (especially the same stuff) until it works. WORK, DAMNIT. So you lose some self-respect, money, happiness, safety…you’re gonna win! At. All. Costs.
WE’RE IN DENIAL: Yes, I sat in this same spot before and got stung, but, you know what, I AM DIFFERENT. I’ve gotten therapy and I do yoga and I meditate and I quit drinking so I probably can’t even get stung anymore…and if I do, I bet it won’t hurt. I AM THE NEW ME in the same situation.
WE’VE INVESTED SO MUCH: (Insert slot machine analogy here.) So you’ve given the project, person, place, your best years, effort, attention but the return just isn’t there, maybe never has been, and perhaps never will be. Do you add just one more (magical) coin or take your empty bucket, leave the casino, and start filling it elsewhere?
WE’RE CHOOSING THE LEAST EVIL: If I move from this spot, the next spot might be even worse. I know this sting. It sucks but it’s familiar, so I can deal with it. This sting is like a part of me. Who would I be without this anxiety and fear and pain? Happier? Prove it. You can’t! This same old spot is fine. Ow. It’s fine.
I could go on but you get it, and I think this might be a good place to share a little ditty by the late Portia Nelson. The following is the result of an exercise she participated in at a seminar where everyone was asked to write their autobiography in 5 chapters (on a 5×7 notecard to keep it brief.) Prepare for greatness.
CHAPTER I
I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost … I am hopeless. It isn’t my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
CHAPTER II
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don’t see it. I fall in again. I can’t believe I’m in the same place. But it isn’t my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
CHAPTER III
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in … it’s a habit. My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault. I get out immediately.
CHAPTER IV
I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
CHAPTER V
I walk down another street.
(SLOW CLAP)
Okay, pals, here’s to another street, another place to plunk your inner 8-year-old’s butt, and if you’ve already chucked your new year’s resolution, (because studies show that commonly happens before February) here’s to recommitting to another way. Or, as my friend’s calm, quiet mom would say…
“MOVE!”
Thanks for subscribing to Wayword Girl. Stories from a screwup who made it work. It’s my mission to entertain, inspire, and heal you into believing in the shiny-ass miracle you are. Peace
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© LCRI
