Trust Your Struggle

Driving to work this morning, I found myself pondering the current state of affairs in my world. I tend to think of myself as the embodiment of hopeful progress most of the time, but also get a bit beaten down by the system here and there. My world is filled with people who I love and want to support in being their most awesome selves, because I know we all can be with some genuine support and effort. It got me to thinking - What exactly is my struggle? Where do I find that I falter? Where do I get push-back? Where do I feel I fail most frequently? What's going on in my world right now that illustrates these things?

It always comes down to patience and listening for me. It's the place I am the hardest on myself, and it's the place that I feel I am the worst at. My OKC profile even says something about this topic that, if you've ever seen me in a truly "there's nothing you can do" situation, you will know is accurate. It says:

"When patience is the only option, I have it in spades, but hold no virtues when it's not."

I am the calm in the eye of the storm when there is nothing to be done, but if there is a possibility of averting things - of growth, change, transformation... AH! Mow the lawn! I'm not having it with waiting. I get restless - I want it NOW, dammit. Why wait? Time is of the essence! There are times when this actually works out in favor of the potential I see, but many times... like with my current circumstances, I find it alienates me from the progress I can almost taste. When I really think about it, it seems to have a tendency of making people who aren't on the Stefi-Progress-Train feel inadequate and inferior - especially if they don't have faith in the future I swear is just around the corner.

That is where my deficiency in listening shows it's face. It's like flint and a spark - once the patience drops, add a spark of not listening, and suddenly there is a blazing fire of failure because I'm not actually hearing what is going on. I'm so caught up in what I want to happen that I stop paying attention to the needs of those around me who don't have the manic fearlessness that I seem to possess. It's maddening, because it creates a downward spiral of everything we all at the heart want totally falling apart. I get frustrated, and then I listen even less, because frustration is the result of this double-edged sword of impatience and lack of listening, and then it's tears and tantrums and feeling worthless and hiding from the world.

It's funny because you'd think that making this distinction would make it easier to avoid it. Not so much. It gets harder, the more heightened it becomes, to stop the trainwreck that is nearly certain. But I'm working on it. I have a tendency of scaring new people. They don't know yet that things with me come in waves. The sea is my thing, and it always has been. I'm cyclical like the tide.

So if you're one of those people who's been impacted by my struggle, just know that it will pass, because eventually I get back to trusting myself. My intentions are always good, because it's just who I am... a little chaotic good maybe? At times I'm simply distracted or looking too closely or maybe even too much at the big picture and not enough at the details. I'll get there, and I am doing my best to listen to what you need for that to happen, I just fuck it up sometimes. Bear with me. I trust my struggle, though I really want to take it out back and put some Office Space-style smackdown on it.

Who Is It You're Listening To?

It's been coming up a lot in my world lately. Conversations about that little voice. You know the one - it's the one that tells you that you are incompetent, doomed to failure, a terrible person, worthless. We all have it. We all listen to it sometimes, and allow it to shade our perspectives. We become defeated and resigned to what that voice says about us. We take it is truth, because we've had it with us our whole lives. We think that voice is who we really are. But the question I always come back to is....

If that little voice is me, who the hell is the person listening to it?

There's an old concept of the angel and devil on our shoulders. "Conscience." It shows up in cartoons, shows, movies, comics. We give in to the temptation offered up by the little devil, and the self-righteous angel tut-tuts us for falling prey to their scheming. Even in this concept, those voices aren't us. Who are they? Where do they come from? How do we choose which one to listen to without feeling like we are failures when we choose what we know is the poorer of the two choices? Hell, sometimes the 'bad' choice is a whole lot of fun. I choose that one a lot, knowing full well that the outcome may be less than stellar. It's always worth it if I learn something, I tell myself. I almost always do.

When I was 17 I hated nearly everything about myself - or at least what I understood, since I felt like a complete moron most of the time. I was naive and gullible. I wasn't quick-witted (I'm still not), and I felt like a gangly, nerdy, stupid, ugly creature in a big cruel world full of opportunistic people, liars, cheats, and all-encompassing fuckery. I knew for a 'fact' nobody loved me. How could they? I certainly didn't love myself, so what person in their right mind would feel anything like that for the hideous monster I was.

I had a new friend... well, I call him my first love. We hadn't known each other long at that point, but 22 years later we are still friends. He's a great guy (Hi, David). He had a habit of always telling me how amazing and beautiful I was. I told myself I hated it, because it was bullshit, but I was still drawn to him, because maybe he meant it. He seemed sincere, and I wanted it to be true. But given how gullible I was, there had to be a point where the other boot would fall. How the hell could he think I was beautiful or interesting or smart? I knew better. My little voice told me - I was dumb. I was worthless. I was so gullible. He'd just end up hurting me in the end, and then I'd be ashamed and embarrassed for trusting him. Given how much I hated myself I was drawn to that possibility as well. I just knew I was right, so why not take another opportunity to prove it?

One day amidst his cooing over how lovely I was I broke down in tears about how it didn't matter what he thought of me. I knew the truth. I heard it in my mind every day. His response will stick with me forever. He got very serious, stood up, took my hand, marched me into the bathroom, and stood behind me with his hands on my shoulders. I struggled, face down, tears falling. I couldn't even look at myself, let alone in front of another person, without making a face of distaste and disappointment. "Look in the mirror. Do you see that girl there? She is beautiful. She's also smart, funny, and simply amazing, and guess what - she's you. Don't ever talk down about yourself again. It's not who you are. You are incredible, Stefani. And if anyone ever says otherwise, fuck them. What the hell do they know?"

I never had anyone stand up for me like that. I certainly never stuck up for myself that way. The only time someone would tell me things like that was when they wanted something from me, but he didn't seem to want anything outside of spending time with me and making me laugh, as well as making me feel beautiful. For some reason I trusted him over the voices in my head. I'd always defined myself by people's opinions of me - by the voice's opinion of me... but hey, here was a person who asked nothing of me but to simply love myself and see myself as beautiful, because he did. This time when that voice yelled in my head, I chose to listen to my friend instead. The self-worth stuff didn't disappear immediately - it took time, but it was a spark of possibility that somehow stuck with me. I started to feel angry whenever that voice spoke up. What the hell did that voice know? Who the hell is that voice anyway? I started to rebel against that little voice. Every time it told me I couldn't, I would offer up a big 'fuck you' and master whatever it said I would fail at. Whenever fear hit me, I would beat it down and kick ass at whatever I was afraid of. After a time something magical began to happen... I stopped listening to it altogether. Sure, sometimes it would get the better of me, but the more I ignored the voice, the quieter it got overall.

So... if you're not the little voice in your head... who are you? The answer is: Whoever the hell you choose to be. And who you choose to be is not static - it's malleable, fluid and strong. The less power you give that voice, the more power you give your vision of who you want to be. Listen to the voices that tell you that you are fabulous, and if they aren't in your head, start listening to the ones who are outside of it that tell you how incredible you are. Ask yourself: What am I passionate about? What lights me up? What inspires me? What makes me laugh like nothing else? And then... Do that! Be choosy about how you spend your energy, and who/what you give focus to, and if it starts to feel toxic or bad, then find something else, because you know what - you have that power. You can do what you want, and nobody is the boss of you except you and the actions you take to define who you are and what really matters to you. You're amazing, and deep down, when that voice shuts the fuck up, you know it. And so does that little voice, which is why it's trying so hard to tear you down.

I don't think a lot of people had someone in their lives like I had... And I'm lucky to have had it at such a young age. I'm grateful to that every single day. It's who I want to be for the people I love... and you are many. You're amazing. Trust someone who knows... Way better than those little fuckwits on your shoulders.