What Was I Going to Prove to Whom?

First off, do I even have my title right? It is “whom” or “who?”

I don’t know. And you know what? That’s okay.

Once upon a time I would’ve been mortified and ashamed to make such a mistake.

Now?

Eh. {Picture me shrugging my shoulders here.}

I’m almost 48 years old and by now I’ve made so many mistakes I can’t remember them all.

Some I do. Thankfully. It saves me from making them again.

But some –most– I don’t. Which means sometimes I repeat them. Eventually I catch on. If it’s important enough to.

And you know what? That’s all okay too.

It’s okay that I’m sometimes slow. (Not always. Sometimes I’m swift on the uptake and even surprise myself.)

It’s okay I’m not perfect. Thank goodness I’m not. How boring that’d be! The mistakes are where the fun is! 

I’m thinking about imperfection and mistakes because my 30th high school reunion is upon me.

I’ve never made it to a reunion until now. It wasn’t until a couple of days ago I even knew there’d been one for 10 and another for 20.

Or maybe I knew and it’s a memory chemo wiped out with the others that have disappeared? I don’t know. And never will.

I’ve been waffling between wanting to go and being indifferent about it. When I first learned about it I was excited.

Then, because I had months to think about, I grew indifferent.

Why are you even bothering going back? You barely knew anyone. No one’s going to remember you. You were pretty anonymous in high school. You weren’t a joiner or very participatory. What do you hope to get out of going back?

Ah. The inside of my mind. It can be such a fun place –if you’re into dark spaces and torture. 

Thank goodness I’m older and wiser and now recognize the self-sabotage when it starts –and take steps to stop it.

I can remember my 17-year-old self thinking, “One day when I’m grown up I’ll come back here and show them.”

Oh so dramatic. And probably was inspired by a movie or book –or two– about a loner ugly duckling who grew into an amazing swan. I was always a sucker for story lines like that.

But really? What was I going to show them? And who are “they” anyway?

Was I going to show the cool kids that I was cool?

I wasn’t then. I’m not now.

And that’s okay. It was then and it is now. I was not all right with it then. Thank goodness I am now.

Show them that I grew up to be successful?

What’s successful? Being rich? Pretty? Having some fancy job title?

Back then I’m sure my idea of success was becoming a famous best-selling author.

That dream hasn’t changed. No one except me knew I had a master plan to “make something of myself” by becoming a famous writer, though. 

But that wouldn’t make me anything except a writer. It’s just a title, a label, something to help other people –and ourselves– bucket ourselves into a category with. 

We’re all more than a job, a zip code, a brand of car.

But we’re definitely led to believe that it’s all about the big accomplishments –the good job, the fancy cars, the big house, loads of friends, marriage, kids, being a pillar of your community, etc. If you have those, you’re “successful.”

Sure. That’s one way to look at success.

I’m none of those things, but I certainly don’t consider myself unsuccessful. 

For one, I’m married to the love of my life –who I’ve just happened to know since high school.

I’ve had my share of writing “success” and excitement.

I have a few amazing close friends.

I’m really not successful by a traditional definition.

But you know what?

Yep. I’m okay with that.

I could prattle off a list of things I wish I was perceived to be more successful at: managing my weight, being pretty, even being some hot shot author.

Would it make me any happier? I don’t know. I’m a Virgo so I’m sure I would still be focused on some other “success” I hadn’t yet achieved instead of savoring all the ones I have.

However, when I find myself admonishing myself and getting hung up that I’m not “successful” in ways I hoped I would be, I remind myself of real successes. 

Because that’s the thing. What I consider my true successes are very different from my what teenage self could’ve ever imagined.

It’s not my bank account, where I live, how I look, or what I drive that makes me feel successful. It’s memories like these:

1. Graduating from college. Especially since I partied so hard freshmen year my grades were in the toilet and I was in danger of being put on academic probation if not failing out entirely.
2. Speaking of college, getting the only A, and an A+ at that, on a 400/500 level college paper. I’ll never forget that moment. The professor had wanted to approve our topics ahead of time. I didn’t do it. I was too shy and he intimidated me. (Not in a Me Too way. He just had a big personality and I was easily flustered any time I had to talk to him.) So I winged it. I wrote about the positive side of horror movies. Before class he started out saying how he was disappointed that not everyone followed directions and met with him to clear their topics, so some papers failed. My heart stopped. But then he said that he was immensely impressed with one paper in particular. One that was so novel in its approach and excellent in its research that it was the only one to get an A, and it was disappointingly not by one of his grad students. When he called my name and I was the author of that paper? My heart re-started and didn’t stop leaping with joy for weeks.
3. Learning how to swim fly and do flip turns in my 30s.
4. Learning how to play tennis and becoming a state champ in my 40s.
5. Rescuing a baby hammerhead shark even though it meant swimming past the breakers and braving the waters where shortly before we’d seen something –something large and massive that was not a dolphin, but could’ve been another shark or whale. 
6. Stopping to rescue Tabby from the middle of the road.
7. Knowing how to make pie crust from scratch for an apple pie that Wayne dies for –as well as knowing how to make a few other dishes that Wayne loves. (I got a C in Home Ec because I destroyed an English Muffin pizza that should’ve been what it was –easy to make. I think I’ve been on a quest ever since to prove to myself I’m not incompetent in the kitchen.)
8. Learning how to use a green screen and how to create videos.
9. Giving my dad’s eulogy –and nailing it. (If one can nail such a thing?) But people laughed where I hoped they would, and to my surprise applauded after, as well as so many came up to tell me what a great job I did. It was the hardest speech I’ve ever written, or delivered, so to have it so well received and to hear it touched so many was a huge personal success indeed.
10. Forcing myself to face my needle phobia to try and make cancer treatments less scary and traumatizing, and, most importantly, so I could receive treatments and live!

I had such a chip on my shoulder back in the day. I was my own worst enemy. Always afraid and thinking I was unworthy.

It stopped me from trying so many things I would’ve loved to.

Which I forgive myself for. I was raised in an environment that nurtured  unhealthy thinking and actions. The second I got away from that, I started living and doing things that I wanted.

That’s a major success right there too. Not only getting away from the toxic environment I was raised in, but recognizing I needed to if I wanted to live a happy life, and learning to overcome the negativity and abuse.

And realizing I had nothing to prove all along.

Except to myself. 

I am who I am and I’m happy with her. She’s kind and funny, fierce and honest. She’s not worried about fitting in anymore, or being bothered if she stands out. She not only embraces her authenticity, but celebrates it. Because she knows she won’t be everyone’s cup of tea –just as not everyone is hers.

And perhaps that’s my greatest success of all: allowing myself to just be me. To just be.

So the me now can go to this reunion and do what she does best –enjoy being in the moment and talking to whoever I talk to about whatever comes up.

Because that’s the sweetest success of all. Savoring Life as it is, as it comes along, in whatever form that is. Sometimes it’s good. Sometimes it sucks. But there is always a take away to be had. 

So let’s go do this thing!