Recently. It’s been
brought to my attention that there are some people who think that I’m a big
meanie. I’ll be honest, that’s a little
surprising to me given that I spend my entire day doing things for other
people. Not just a few other
people. 1,100 other people. So many other people, that I have a hard time
coming home and doing anything for myself.
Anyway, there are some people who think I’m not nice enough. I know because somebody told me recently that
my voice evokes anxiety. I also know,
because in the not too distant past, a couple people have made a very avid
attempt at skirting the system, and when they were called to task about their
behavior, their answers were the same: “I
feel like Angela hates me.”
When I first heard those things, I was fucking pissed. Not just marginally upset. I was a lot of pissed. I mean, come on. I spend
my days giving hugs and sharing cupcakes and drying tears. I’m not a dick. I’m the proverbial mama bear. If you can’t fix it, I will fix it for
you. If you need help, I will get it for
you. If you need to be an asshole to
someone, call me, I’ll take it. Then I’ll
fix your shit, even if I don’t particularly care for the way you went about
asking for help. But really, you think
that I hate you? My voice induces
anxiety? You always get what you need
from me. That’s how it works. Everybody knows that. So, yeah, I was a little more than put out.
Then somebody told me “maybe you expect too much from
people?” Now this a battle I fight every
day. Because I always wonder if I’m
being too hard on Radley. I always
wonder if I expect too much from him.
After all, he’s five. He should
have the benefit of enjoying his childhood without me projecting too many
demands on him. So, I thought, if it’s
possible that I’m too hard on my own son, how might my expectations appear to
other? Especially since my filter is
filled with gaping holes and my face shows every emotion I’ve ever felt. It’s plausible that people may be offended by
my honesty.
That of course, led to a completely different train of
thought. I have had a lot of men tell me
that they are uncomfortable with my
tone. Not just spineless assholes. Strong men.
Accomplished men. Men with more
backbone than most. My ex-husband would
tell me on a regular basis that he hated my accusatory tone. Believe me when I tell you, tone was never accusatory towards him. It may
have been a lot of other things, but never accusatory. Then, the second clinic supervisor I worked
with would yell at me when I asked him questions. Not because I was asking questions, but
because, as he put it “I always think you’re pissed at me.” I had a conversation with another clinic
supervisor about how he felt like every time I talked to him, he felt like I
was “calling him to task.” I’m still not
sure what that means, but I’m pretty sure he was trying to tell me that I’m a
bitch. Which is fine that he thinks
that, but that’s never been my intention.
These conversations made me wonder. If so many of the people I have had very
personal relationships with cannot decipher the difference between my concerned
voice and my irritated voice, how is it possible that people who only vaguely know
me could? And don’t misunderstand, just
because I thought about it doesn’t mean that I’m going to change it. Just like I’m not going to change the hugs
and the Kleenex and the cupcakes. But at
least, I’ve thought about it. I’ve also
thought about the people who have said those things to me or about me. And this is what I’ve come up with:
I am not offended that you don’t like. You are only one on a long list of many. I am only a little offended that you think I
hate you. After all, at the end of the
day, I don’t have enough energy for hate.
If you knew me, you would know that.
I am very offended that you think I won’t do everything in my power to
help you. Because that’s what I do
best. I help others. Even if you don’t realize I’m trying to help
you, I want you to know that I want you to grow into strong, independent women
who do not feel entitled because you are unhappy. I don’t want you to find short cuts. I want you to go out and change your own
fate. I want you to be women who can
deal with discomfort and, at the same time, can revel in contentment, as
well. I want you to hold yourself
accountable, and do the same for the people around you. And, if you feel anxiety when you hear my
voice, know that I feel the same when I hear yours. However, the reason you feel it, is more
likely because you aren’t living up to your potential. The reason I feel it, is because I’m afraid
that I’ll see you not living up to your potential.
That's not judgement, that's experice.
-Inner Peas
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