{ me, myself, & everyone else }

1. { day twelve || quick change }, 2. { day thirteen || evening wear }

i'm learning more and more, as adult life brings challenges both personal and communal, that sometimes even the closest of friends with the best of intentions simply cannot speak to me in ways that are meaningful or helpful. i don't say that to sound arrogant, and the last shred of people-pleaser remaining in my psyche almost hates to articulate it. because no woman is an island, and i wouldn't be where i am now without the understanding, coaxing, and support of friends and family along the way.

but even those words ring a bit hollow to me this morning; it's what we all say. so there must be some truth to it. but at the risk of sounding like a pretentious little she-island, i'm going to say these words too: i wouldn't be where i am today without having worked with and listened to myself.

like so many things, i think (ever-elusive) balance is the key here; you can't get through life without ever accepting input from anyone. but neither will you get anywhere if you never learn to figure out how to know what's best for you aside from what everyone else thinks.

but figuring out the recipe for
     how many pinches of other peoples' thoughts +
     how tightly-packed a cupful of my own inclinations =
     the perfect life cookie
is all but impossible. and different every time. i shredded that 3x5 index card long ago...but not without dog-earing it for years in hopes of discerning its illegible scrawl time after time after time.

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so last night i sat on my dear friend's couch and listened to her compare me to an alcoholic for handling a situation the way i felt was most constructive for me instead of taking the action she has long considered the only good option.

i held up my hand.
i pushed my eyebrows together.
i set my mouth, and said, no.


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i left the house realizing (again) that one, i still want to share my life with her, but i have to be very careful how i do that so as not to leave these conversations feeling like a beat-up piece of helpless shit. two, i have to explicitly put boundaries up in these conversations with her and let her know how this kind of tough love makes me feel (you know, the kind of love that likens a relatively healthy person struggling honestly with a long-standing situation to a junkie desperately stumbling after her next score).

but i also wondered, why do i have to spend all that energy protecting myself walking down what should be a safe street? why do i need to construct shields against those who are not my enemy?


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my conclusion (as of this moment) is that i've always had to do this to some extent with everyone and anyone who is not me. i am independent, fiercely private, and profoundly mysterious even to myself, even after hours upon years of self-introspection, articulation, and discovery. i almost never feel "safe" revealing my deepest thoughts or feelings because when i do, it is rare for people to be able to handle them without immediately interpreting and re-establishing them in terms of their own personal understanding (and subsequent beliefs about what i should do with/about said thoughts and feelings).

another conclusion: vulnerability and human interaction are almost never completely "safe" activities; we cannot help but interpret, re-establish, and attempt to "right" what appears off-balance to us. and "to us" is the operative phrase, right? because something could look so crooked and inefficient to me, but maybe it works for my friend. maybe she's finding her equilibrium on a winding staircase, stopping for longer than i would on a dusty landing...but it works for her. and i have to be comfortable with allowing her the space and time to let happen whatever is happening to her on her laborious, breathtaking way to the top, and beyond.

(side note: while it seems like i'm pushing a "there's no absolute truth" / "everything is relative so why speak into each others' lives at all?" agenda, i am not. if i wanted to murder someone this afternoon because that's what would suit my process, of course it would make sense for someone to say, "you shouldn't do that. period." i'm talking about the complex and inscrutable matters of heart and soul that do not indicate any one right way of being dealt with.

i'm also not saying that there aren't times in our lives when we need to be shaken awake in a serious way, and it's usually unpleasant and difficult to have this happen. sometimes i do need to be confronted with an immovable truth about how i've been behaving or the peripheral effects of something i've been choosing. i usually don't like it. it feels like a spotlight has caught me against a prison wall, only instead of being discovered trying to escape the prison, it's revealed that i've remained in captivity when in fact i was released months earlier. it hurts. it makes me feel defensive. it makes me want to run, retreat, hide. but every once in awhile it is best for me to go through this.)

final conclusion: i don't need to vilify my well-intended friends. nor do i need to follow all (or even some) of their advice. the more i think about it, the more i realize the important thing is that i have friends who will show up. they'll dialogue with me. and whether we agree or not, they keep showing up. it's not lazy to say sometimes showing up is the most important thing someone could do. because beyond the words and the opinions, a presence speaks. i am more committed than ever to be a present friend, whether i am speaking, opining, advising, or none of the above.

because we all have our staircases to climb.
and i am with you on the way, further up or a few steps behind.
she