I was living under false pretenses. I really thought this
parenting stuff was supposed to get easier when they got older. But I guess
when you have three kids and one is a teenager and another is transgender and
the little one has an attitude that could swallow Manhattan, you're maybe
fooling yourself that diapers and blocked ducts would be the most challenging
stage.
At least there was naptime back then. Now they don't sleep.
They're always around, asking for things like rides and snacks and a rapid
SWAT team response time hostage negotiations
using me as a human shield help with settling minor sibling disagreements.
When my therapist, a friendly but take-no-bullshit kind of
woman who is quite amazing, asked me how I was feeling a few days ago, I told
her that I'm just on this side of OK. What that means is that I'm managing, but
little stressors send me over the anxiety cliff in no time flat. Extra
commitments send me over the cliff, too. Oh, and trying to make sure everybody
in my life is happy.
"Wait. Hold up. What was that last part?" my
therapist asked in a way I might be paraphrasing.
"Oh, you know. Family, friends, clients, teachers...
Everybody wants a piece of me. Trying to manage it all is a full-time job in
itself."
"Why are you
trying to make everyone happy?" she asked, and gave me that look. If
you've been in therapy, you know that look. (And if you haven't been in therapy
and you get enjoyment from reading my blog, you're definitely dysfunctional and
- good news - I can recommend a good therapist.)
I hesitated. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks that
just hit somebody: I'm a people pleaser. A hardcore, unabashed people pleaser.
And that's not good. Well, it is for everyone else, but it's not for me. I'm
that nice person who will do anything for you. "Maven? She's so nice. And
she has great hair, but that is totally secondary to all the niceness going
on."
According to Psychology Today, people who go over the top to
please others do so because "the
intense need to please and care for others is deeply rooted in either a fear of rejection and/or fear of failure."
Well, go figure. I'm an expert
at fearing rejection and failure. I
practically have a PhD in both subjects. No wonder I excel at this stuff. I
want you to like me and not be mad at me and be in my life - especially right
now, when we need all the support we can get. And I want to be really good at
things and never, ever make mistakes - especially right now, when the stakes
are so high.
Fear has been governing my
life. It's been adrenalizing me, helping me subsist on 4-5 hours of sleep while trying to meet a buffet of commitments.
Every week I say yes to things
I should say no to.
Every week I don't get things
done that should get done.
Every week I say that next week
I'll make the time to take care of myself, to go to the gym, to prepare
healthier food, to just hang out and read a book, to paint or to write a song.
And every week I end up swamped
because, on top of the things that need to happen (like appointments and work
and groceries and time with the kids) I end up doing the things I don't really
have time for but do anyway (like that extra volunteer shift, or committing to
an event I really don't have time for, or helping someone out) which means I
don't have as much time for the things I should be doing more of (like working
out, losing myself in art, hanging out with my husband, or catching up with
good friends.)
And on particularly bad weeks,
which are most weeks lately, the housework suffers, we eat like crap and it
feels like all the balls I've been juggling are crashing down.
"Amanda? Why do you feel
like you have to make everybody happy? Can you answer the question?"
And this is the point where I
start crying in the therapist's office, which I knew was bound to happen
because I was in a great mood before the session and decided to wear full eye
makeup knowing I wouldn't cry. It's a
universal law that I should never wear eyeliner anywhere if I want to stay
happy.
"I don't want to
disappoint anyone," I say through my tears.
"Do you not think you're good enough on your own, without
trying to please the world?"
And the answer, sadly, was no. I did not feel like I'm good
enough on my own. How depressing is that?
I used to have a lot of confidence, but it's slipped in the
last year or so. A challenging move, facing the fact that I never finished high
school and working hard to support a kid who doesn't fit the mold has worn me
down. Or maybe it's just exposed the ugly underbelly of what I thought was
confidence and was probably just ego the entire time.
I can't change how I feel overnight. It's going to take some
work. I'm trying to learn to be enough. I wrote about it recently and that was
a good start, but there's a ton of work left to do. It's work that I have to do
in order to preserve my integrity and be a good mom, partner, family member and
friend. I can't be this exhausted all
the time.
When we looked at Gutsy's life and the pressure she's under,
we realized that school was the big stressor that we could take away. So we removed
it, and she's now able to focus on transitioning to life as a girl.
My big removable stressor is people pleasing. I need to stop
saying yes to everything or rushing in to save the day at the expense of my
emotional and physical health. It seems honourable in the short term, but in
the long term? Well, I won't be around in the long term if I keep this up. I have
to stop treating my life as a sprint and instead look at it as the marathon it
is. I need my strength for the miles ahead.
I walked out of my therapist's office with a determined look on my now
emo princess face. No more bending over backwards to make people happy. From
now on, I do only the things I have to do and the things that will feed my soul
and nourish my body. I'm choosing my commitments wisely and trying not to get
run over by guilt in the process.
And you know what? I feel really good. The past week or so
has been much better. I'm sleeping better, eating better and taking some much
needed downtime. I've been consistently going to the gym and enjoying the first
few blissful days of summer with my family. I've been saying yes to the things
I want to say yes to, and unapologetically no to the things I can't or don't
want to do.
And if people don't like it? Well, that's their issue. I
can't control how other people feel. Any relationship based on me trying to
please someone else isn't a maintainable relationship, anyway.
And I'm starting to believe, truly believe, just a little, that the person
underneath all this fear is fabulous enough to be liked on her own merits.