My Permission Slip
I still kind of believe that I’ll be more appreciated after I’m dead. I think because in so many ways we all appreciate more after we lose something- let’s face it. I’ve realized that for most of my life I’ve been the person floating in the room. I’m either ignored or if noticed, the person who makes everyone else feel comfortable. I’m the security blanket. Kind of like a party favor for human emotions. For as long as I can remember, this is how it has always been. Some times it feels more like a curse. But in more recent terms, I’m finding it as more than a compliment or gift, but rather an excuse to be more intentional. Intentional with my self that is. Permission. Permission to turn it on and off.
You see, I come from a line of women who, like me, have the security blanket affect in this world, and I’m now raising one too. Perhaps in some small way we are keeping the world spinning. I think in many ways, my daughter is the reason why I’ve come to terms with it having to be more than just- ‘what can I do for others.’ We are more than the sensitive type, but the unpaid therapists for all friends, family, and my favorite- complete strangers. But in all honesty, it’s exhausting. It feels like I’m being outsourced for my ability to listen and offer advice if need be for the people I have come to love and adore. For strangers, it must be more in my abilities to not just listen but to also not judge. And maybe that I can keep a secret.
Please don’t confuse this with the works of Mother Teresa. Please don’t take me as someone claiming to be God’s modern gift to society. I am in a way complaining though of being needed, but more so for only being needed on everyone else time. If there’s one thing that this quarantine has taught me, is that I have to include myself. I need to decide when to be available, but also to cling to the people in my life that see me and love me for more than my ability to be just their listening ear. But who wants to listen to me too; and laugh, cry, play, create, and eat. I’m good at those things too!
But, actually this coming to terms- thing is not just for me, but for my daughter Ava. I need to show her that what we are is truly a gift. A God-given ability to connect wholly to others with empathy, but one that doesn’t just require us to be worn out and then quietly tucked away in the memory book or keepsake box.
You see, I come from a line of women who, like me, have the security blanket affect in this world, and I’m now raising one too. Perhaps in some small way we are keeping the world spinning. I think in many ways, my daughter is the reason why I’ve come to terms with it having to be more than just- ‘what can I do for others.’ We are more than the sensitive type, but the unpaid therapists for all friends, family, and my favorite- complete strangers. But in all honesty, it’s exhausting. It feels like I’m being outsourced for my ability to listen and offer advice if need be for the people I have come to love and adore. For strangers, it must be more in my abilities to not just listen but to also not judge. And maybe that I can keep a secret.
Please don’t confuse this with the works of Mother Teresa. Please don’t take me as someone claiming to be God’s modern gift to society. I am in a way complaining though of being needed, but more so for only being needed on everyone else time. If there’s one thing that this quarantine has taught me, is that I have to include myself. I need to decide when to be available, but also to cling to the people in my life that see me and love me for more than my ability to be just their listening ear. But who wants to listen to me too; and laugh, cry, play, create, and eat. I’m good at those things too!
But, actually this coming to terms- thing is not just for me, but for my daughter Ava. I need to show her that what we are is truly a gift. A God-given ability to connect wholly to others with empathy, but one that doesn’t just require us to be worn out and then quietly tucked away in the memory book or keepsake box.
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