Posts
I ran across this pithy passage years ago and it absolutely bounced
right into my aching, misunderstood heart.
I’m a recovering people pleaser. Since Day One of my arrival on the
planet, I have been contorting myself into the approval of other people.
It’s a terrible way to live.
Trying to fit into others’ expectations is basically the same as wearing
an itchy, ill-fitting sweater – it’s
miserable and the buttons are not aligned. It’s certainly not the color I’d
choose.
WHY do I go sweater shopping with the wrong people?
It’s a fair question.
What’s even more aggravating is, once I rearrange myself into their standard
of being, they’re still not happy. I continue to fall short, which then plunges
me into a dark, scary place known as Rejection. Despite all my efforts to
please, to win approval, to be acceptable, I miss the mark.
It’s never quite enough, somehow.
The thing about aging? It ripens you into a softer, wiser version of
yourself. And so I have slowly come to terms with being soundly misunderstood
by some and lovingly embraced by others.
I have learned to run fast toward the things I love, and if someone
keeps up, I introduce myself. These are my people; this is my
tribe.
Rather than fixating on the ones I have disappointed, I focus on the
ones who welcome me, laugh with me, dry my tears and tolerate my quirks.
The other thing aging does, is it makes room for mercy. I no longer
feel anguish toward people whose self-assigned mission is to misunderstand my
intentions, my heart. Instead, I throw an imaginary bubble of Light around
them, a warm space for Grace to abide, along with Patience and Kindness. There’s
also room in the bubble for Forgiveness, even if the person hasn’t apologized.
Because they are very likely trying on the wrong sweaters, too. They
feel scratchy and mismatched and very much alone. They, too, are fighting to be
understood.
Let’s not pull at their loose threads or try to patch up the elbow holes.
Instead, why don’t we simply step out into the world in our own comfy cardigans?
No longer laboring under the cloud of scrutiny, but shining in the vibrancy of
recognizing ourselves: our imperfect, impulsive, exotic versions of being
human?
Run fast toward the things you love, and if someone keeps up, introduce
yourself. These are the ones you can take sweater-shopping with you. These are
the people who will applaud your choices and travel with you in a joyful jumble
of soft, well-worn threads.
