Sometimes admitting things that are less than desirable
about yourself is very, very hard to do.
And putting it in writing is even harder. So what should’ve been the first sentence I
typed has successfully been excused and put off to the third or fourth
fifth or sixth sentence…and this blog entry isn’t even really about me. It’s fear of judgment that causes us to do
such things, is ironically what I’m writing about today. Arguing that we fear of judgment shouldn’t
let us celebrate things that don’t SEEM as celebratory as others’ celebrations…
Here it goes…I’m a jealous person. It’s something that I want to work on. It’s something that I am keenly aware of
needing to work on. Yet I don’t know
where to begin. So I continue on my
path, wishing I had hair like that—which I see on Pinterest. Wishing I could take a vacation like those I
see posted on Facebook. I wish I could
create, maintain, and keep up with a blog like THAT one. I continue to peruse, scroll, and {dream} of
being like others, of doing the things and going to the places they go. Of looking like, and feeling like it appears
they feel. Instead of being happy with
where I am and what I’m doing, or working to make my life something I feel like
I could be proud of—I {lust} for what everyone else has and does.
It doesn’t consume me.
It doesn’t make me resentful of others—at least I don’t believe it
does. It just makes me feel like I’m
stuck in neutral. I’m actually probably
not stuck there, though. I’m
perfectly capable of moving forward, yet
this undesirable, ugly characteristic about myself actually causes me to start
rolling backwards…as I sit in neutral…I roll backwards. I need to stop. Put the brakes on, put it in gear, and
move. Forward.
This time of year, as I peruse Facebook and see all the
posts about graduations, end-of-the-school year accomplishments—honor rolls,
awards, scholarships, nominations, etc., I find myself green. Then I find myself thinking, “What a jerk. You have such high expectations of your
(child, loved one, etc.) that I bet THEY don’t even have any fun in their
lives. Those smiles are masks.” That’s not fair of me. Most people don’t get to those places without hard work, focus, and dedication.
Some slide by somehow get there anyway, but not most. Very few, actually. Maybe that’s what I’m green about. Maybe it’s not the results I’m green about,
but the effort and dedication it took to get there. As I sit and worry about what I don’t have, I
could be doing things to get there.
No…I’m dedicated. I work
hard. I have drive and desire. I do accomplish things. I could brag about them. Maybe I should brag about them. But I really never have been like that. Maybe it’s not even really the
accomplishments I’m green about. Maybe I
wish I could “be more like that” in that I wish I could put it out there
more…brag a little more. I’m just not
comfortable with that. And I know
why. I fear the criticism. I dread what others might think or say about
it. The compliments and congratulations
that might possibly come from it make me feel uncomfortable. I call it modesty, but only to make myself
feel better about it. Because if I
called it something else, which I don’t even know what that would be, then it’d
be on me and not “them.” Calling it
modesty sounds like a positive towards myself.
Doesn’t it?
So while I see posts about graduations, honors awards, award
nominations, etc., I need to keep in mind that getting through a day without an
autistic explosion—or at least only a few—is just as big of accomplishment. There’s a lot that I say is about
perspective. I use that a lot in my job.
Presenting the value in care that might seem expensive to some and convincing
them to see it in a way that makes the cost worth it. I use that a lot in my advocacy for my son
with special needs in convincing teachers and educators that seeing it from a
different perspective makes the extra effort and work I’m asking of them is
worth it. Well worth it.
I can’t sit here and say that I’m swearing off being
green. It’s my favorite color, after
all. I’m not convinced I’ll stop wishing
I had hair like that or the motivation to work out to have a body like
hers. I know I’m going to see vacation
pictures on Facebook and wish I was there…but I have to learn to be okay with
my own accomplishments. To be proud of them and realize that they are just as
big—and that I worked just as hard, if not harder, to reach them. The results are much different. The outcome might not seem to me to be the
same or as big or as glamorous as the others…but the drive, the dedication, the
love, and the passion to reach them is just as grand…and just as deserving of
celebration as the rest. I just have to
somehow learn to be okay with that. And
to be okay with keeping it a little more private.
I don’t think others would be green about my
accomplishments…but I bet I’m wrong!
I often am.
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