I feel like I've been writing a lot about relationships lately...and probably because I have been. I suppose a lot of it simply springs from my struggle to come to grips with the reality that something very good seems to be happening to me. After the past year and a half, that in and of itself is pretty amazing. At the risk of sounding overly melodramatic, it's not like my life has completely sucked for the past 18 months. Far from it. Still, in terms of my personal life...well, let's just say that you could charitably refer to it as something of a dry spell. Not a lot of good things happening...and after awhile, it just sort of became the norm and what I came to expect. Therein lies the problem....
I never grew up with the expectations of good things. I grew up in the poorest county in the state of Minnesota, and affluence was very much an abstract concept. The fact that I was even able to go to college was tribute more to my refusal to believe that I couldn't than any financial backing. I got a grand total of $35 from my parents over the course of my time in college. Support, what little there was, was almost strictly moral in nature, and certainly not enough to create in me a sense that I was unique and/or deserving of anything beyond the hardscrabble attitude I grew up surrounded by. I suppose it's tough to learn a learn you're never taught.
I never learned to hope for, much less expect, that good things would or could happen to me. Perhaps it was just never having that modeled for me. If no one teaches or shows you that bigger and better things are possible, how do you learn how to recognize that potential in yourself? I grew up surrounded by what Paul Begala once referred to as "the soft bigotry of low expectations". Of course, I have no one but myself to blame for thoroughly assimilating and adapting to living with low expectations. What I need to learn how to do- and I've taken this on as my latest challenge, with the help of a serious kick in the butt- is to be more...well, if not arrogant, then something approaching that. Call it selfish, assertive, or whatever aphorism happens to seem appropriate, the challenge for me is the same. Why SHOULDN'T I expect good things? Why SHOULD I react with such surprise when good and amazing things happen to me? Why SHOULD my initial reaction be to wonder why and how I could possibly deserve to be blessed with good things? Why not me? I'm a good person with a lot to offer...and there's no reason I shouldn't be able to see that in myself. How can I expect others to see something in me that I can't recognize in myself?
One of the great things about a good relationship is that it serves as a mirror. Suddenly, you find yourself being reflected back at you with a perspective you couldn't begin to duplicate. The Chinese call it "seeing with new eyes", and it really can provide a window into your true nature you wouldn't be able to come up with on your own. In my case, I'm beginning to see- if only because it's been brought to my attention in a way that's impossible to ignore- just how low I've set my sights and how short I consistently sell myself. Man, this means I actually have to do something here, right?
There's something about having myself reflected back at me that's...well, very unnerving. Then again, I can't very well deny the truth. If someone can pick up on this in a few short weeks...it's tough to ignore reality, especially when the person bringing it to your attention is extraordinarily perceptive.
So now I have a new challenge, but it's basically just a matter of changing a life-long habit of setting the bar far too low. Why shouldn't I be willing and able to see myself as a good person, and deserving of good things? Why not expect success and happiness? Why not set the bar higher? If someone else can see these things in me, why not act as if that actually IS me? Hey, if she's smart and perceptive enough to recognize that I'm a good person with a lot to offer, who am I to contradict her?
It's hard not to think of the heartache I might have been able to save myself over the years had I been able to remove my anterior from my posterior earlier in life. It's just possible, though, that perhaps all of that was preparation to get me where I am now...and I've got to admit that where I am now is a pretty good place to be.
