It’s SO Not About You, or, Growing (Up)

When you’re young, you think you know it all.  You can outsmart the people who came before you.  You can lie better, cheat better, run faster and jump higher.  Ok, that last part might be true, but you think the people who came before you never thought about the things you think about, or experienced the things you’ve experienced.  And surely they don’t understand how things are ‘now a days.’  What a load of horse shit.

When I was young, I certainly thought I knew it all.  I had it all together, I was smart, and the things that older adults used to try to warn me about would surely never happen to me, because I was smarter than that.  How stupid I was.  I can remember very wise people trying to help me to not make the same mistakes they’d made, giving me priceless nuggets of wisdom for the mere cost of a little bit of my time.  And I admit, I pissed a lot of it away.  Not all of it though, because I was (and still am) pretty smart.  😉  So I guess here I am, trying to impart some of my life experience to others.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t think I’ve got it all figured out.  I know I still have a lot left to learn.  But I also think I have something to say that may help someone else.

The older I get, the more I understand that it’s not about me.  This thing called life, is not about me.  I think the first time I actually realized that was when my son was born.  Anyone who has a child very quickly realizes it’s no longer about ‘you.’  Not only on a metaphysical level, but on a literal level.  The focus becomes the baby; how old they are, how much they’ve grown, have they started teething yet, etc.  People stop asking about you because you’re no longer the focus.  You have a tiny human being to raise, it’s no longer about you.  And that ‘piece of change’ (what my grandmother used to call money) that your nanny (what we called my paternal grandmother) used to give you?  It starts going to the grandbabies instead.  She’s not balling up that twenty or fifty dollar bill and shoving it in your hands anymore.  Ok well, not really.  I still got a piece of change anyway, at the very least for gas money, but I think you get the point.  Man, I miss my grandmother so much….

One of the hardest life lessons I had to learn when I was young was when to let go of my pride.  I was legally separated, and I had to decide whether or not to file bankruptcy.  I didn’t get in over my head by myself, but all the debt was legally in my name (lesson learned).  My pride said ‘grown ups don’t file bankruptcy, it’s like admitting that you can’t handle your business.’  My reality said ‘if you don’t file bankruptcy, you’ll never be able to afford to pay for the divorce you need to move on with your life.’  I can still remember the moment I decided to let go of my pride and file.  I was sitting next to the man I was seeing at the time, and I began to cry as I let go of all the stress the entire situation was causing me.  No words were spoken, he simply held me as I cried like I’d never cried before.  I mean, I broke down and cried like I’d lost a loved one.  But it was so cleansing, so freeing, to be able to say I can no longer handle this on my own and I am not a failure because I’m choosing to do this.

In conjunction with that decision, one of the hardest things I had to do was give back my car.  Now that was an extremely humbling experience for me.  I was so proud of that car, a 1995 Dodge Stratus that I’d gotten brand new, the first year they’d made those cars, and I used to get so many compliments on it because there weren’t any other ones around.

1995 Dodge Stratus
1995 Dodge Stratus (but not the exact one I gave back)

I had no idea what I was going to do for transportation, but I can tell you because I was proactive, and worked with my creditor instead of trying to duck and dodge them, it never showed up as a negative on my credit report.  The transaction was marked “paid as agreed.”  I am so thankful that the man in my life at that time was there for me, yet again.  He came to my rescue (without me asking), and provided me with another car.  He gave me a car (paid for, title in my name).  No strings attached.  And although it could’ve been some little hooptie or beater, it happened to be something that I really wanted.  Exactly what I wanted in fact, including the color.  I can’t tell you what a blessing that was.  I don’t consider myself a religious person, even though I grew up in the church (topic for a different blog post, trust me), but I am spiritual.  And I believe God puts the right people in your life at the right time, and I certainly had the right man in my life at that time.  I can look back now and clearly see that he was in my life for a reason (and only a season).

Some of you are probably asking ‘why in the heck is she putting all of her business out here like that?’  I chose to share this experience because throughout that whole situation, I had people in my life who understood that it wasn’t all about them.  I was young, I thought I knew it all, and I thought I could handle everything by myself.  The lesson in that for me was you don’t have to, that everyone needs help at some point in their lives, and you shouldn’t be too proud to ask for it.  And, that pride certainly goeth before a fall.  But more importantly, I’m sharing because I understand that it’s not all about me.  If I think I can help someone else by telling my story, then by all means, I’ll tell my story.  And after all, it’s my website, I can say what I want.  But with great power comes great responsibility.  I make an effort to ensure my postings are positive, and hopefully entertaining, because I want to be able to encourage and inspire, to breathe positivity into others.  And honestly, I’m beginning to believe that’s part of my reason for being here.

From a very early age, people have always confided in me, and I never understood why.  I’m talking people from all walks of life, people I barely knew, people who were much older and, I believed, much wiser than me.  And these people were sharing really deep, extremely personal things with me.  And thank goodness I had the wherewithal to not react physically based on what I was thinking mentally (which at times was kind of like ‘oh my god i cannot believe they are telling me this’).  I realized that even though I didn’t understand, it was something that I was not to take for granted.  I never really understood the ‘why’ until several years ago.  Sometimes it’s not really for you to understand, it’s just up to you to serve your purpose.  As for why people choose to share with me, sometimes it’s just about having someone to listen, and not judge, and sometimes it’s about me being able to share some wisdom and advice because I’ve been through the same or similar situation.  Sometimes it’s about honesty.  I can’t tell you how many times I hear “I’m asking/telling you Angela because I know you’ll be honest with me.”  And sometimes it’s just about being able to make someone laugh when they feel like they’ve hit their absolute rock bottom.  I admit I have an innate ability to find the humor in almost any situation, mostly because I’m just kinda bent like that.  Just ask my friends how many times I’ve had them cracking up over completely inappropriate situations, simply because I understood that they needed it.  And trust me, when you ‘share’ with me, it stays with me.  I’m like a vault.

To me, it’s experiences like the one I’ve shared today that remind me to have patience with people (because sometimes they’re too proud to admit they are in trouble and/or need help), to try to keep an open mind (which I admit can be difficult sometimes), and not to judge others, because you never know what you’d do if you were in someone else’s situation.  If you knew how many times in my life people had incredible amounts of patience with me, or gave me second (and even third) chances, who forgave me when I could barely even forgive myself, you might be able to understand where this posting is coming from.  I now understand how important it is to pass that on, to pay it forward.

So this is me, cracking open a few pages of my personal book, and sharing for those that are willing to listen (or read).  And if just one person walks away from having read this with the understanding that, yes, this thing called life, indeed, is not about me, I’ll feel as if I’ve done my job.

Yeah I know I’m on a philosophical kick but just go with it,

Angela