What I did Right

I defer to no one when it comes to self-criticism. Not satisfied merely with my own negative judgments, I have assembled a formidable Committee in my brain that pursues me like the Four Horsemen of the Apocolypse in the effort to shred any amount of satisfaction I might gain. And so it has been, for as long as I can remember.

The key to carrying out that level of self-immolation in public is a sense of humor. I know intellectually that it is all nonsense. With some acerbic wit and irony, I can convey that to others without actually believing it myself. So you might think I have it together, and even have a high level of insight, but the truth is, the Committee has the upper hand.

The rightest thing I've done is raise two children who know their own minds and follow their own light. When I look at them now, both in their thirties (though one is perilously close to forty), I see two adults who are able to love their spouses without delusional fairy tales. They function in society, but are not bowed down trying to meet the demands and expectations of others. How in the world did that happen?

Even though I've had a streak of rebellion running through me all along, most of the time it expressed itself in self-destructive ways. That balance between doing what I was "supposed" to do and following my own inclinations was always treacherous. It still can bite me on the ass.

I came out of the closet, loud and proud, when I was 27, after one marriage and one baby. Scared myself silly in the process, though I don't remember encountering pushback from anybody I cared about. I just couldn't imagine being able to live my life the way I wanted to, so I scurried back in with all the shoes, hats, and dusty old coats, but left the door cracked just a titch. 

Getting sober at 30 was something I did right. I had a lot of flesh-and-blood folks to counter the Committee and bolster me up. I think it's interesting that I never went back to my old ways after that. I'm sure it's because of all the outside support. But I did have to take another hostage and up the ante to two kids, witnesses to the highs and lows of dishonest living. 

It took me 20 years to come out again, and do it right. But I didn't have the same level of help as with staying sober. I had convinced myself over the years that I was destined for a life of longing, without realizing that I was the one who created that story. I told myself I was supposed to be married for life, and didn't deserve to be happy since I had been so very, very naughty in the past.

It wasn't until I was in my fifties that I allowed for the possibility that love was something that included me --- I could not only experience it, but I deserved it. I always blew up relationships before that. POW! BAM! Then I met Jill, slowed down, didn't sabotage it, and found out that people weren't lying after all. There really is such a thing as being happy with someone else, and I could do it, too.

My birthday is coming up in a few days. I tend to get reflective in August, not only because I get to mark off another year, but it feels like the time when changes occur. I'm fortunate that the Committee is probably getting old and tired ---- sixty years of saying the same things over and over will do that. It doesn't seem to be as loud and relentless anymore, which is not to say they've folded up the tent and moved on. I'm just a little more likely to interrupt the harrangue before I fall into the pit of despair. And occasionally I can prevent it in the first place.

Are happiness and fulfillment a choice? Probably so, to some degree. I tell the women I mentor that the good news is that thoughts are your own, and that means you can change them. You might not be able to do anything about circumstances (I think of my friend Joanna, in jail) but you do have the power to change how you think about your situation. I say that so frequently because it's exactly what I need to hear. And every time it works for someone else, I know it can work for me.