I Don't Lighten Up

It seems I'm going to follow my usual bloggng MO here: I do a bunch of stuff that I'm excited about and want to blog about; I get busy and procrastinate and don't write about it because I think I don't have time to write a good enough post. Time passes and I feel like hiding from my blog because I haven't written about whatever it was. Then, faithful reader, you get my random thoughts about whatever I feel compelled enough to write on a day when the stars and atoms align correctly for me to sit down and write. And so it goes.

I was blog-surfing during breakfast today, and landed at a blog I'd never read before. The current entry was the writer's announcement that she and her husband were splitting up. It was long and articulate. Near the end, she apologized for being so serious. What's wrong with this picture?

Obviously there's a discussion to be had here about relevant social phenomena, blogging culture, and on and on, but I'm not going to go there today. No, instead, it's going to be All About Me. (I need to start tagging these posts, like Jodi does.) I promise, though, I'll make it into something about not-just-me.

I got to thinking about a friend I used to have. Around the time Zak and I were preparing to get married, I had a very intense and damaging friendship with someone who used to tell me to lighten up all the time. I've been told to lighten up all my life, by many different people, and I've got to say, I hate it more than you can imagine.

On the whole, people don't tell you to lighten up because they're concerned for your emotional well-being. They do it because they are uncomfortable with your feelings, and because they don't really want to go where you are.

It's true that people don't all experience things the same way, and that's fine. I don't need everyone to process information and emotion the same way I do, and I don't think I should have to think and feel the same way someone else does. Because we all really only know what it's like inside our own heads, it can take a while to figure out how you are different from other people. (Think about colour-blindness. How do you know what colours other people see?) It's taken me a long time to realize that I am, to a larger degree than normal, serious, passionate, imaginative and emotionally intense. Why is this something I've been shamed for?

There is a balance to be found between wanting to improve yourself, and accepting who you are. There are certainly things about myself that I have worked concertedly to change, and things which I am still striving to change.

I think that too often, people are content to say "that's just who I am" about aspects of themselves which are damaging to themselves and those around them. (There's a lot of cultural reinforcement for this, too, but that's a tangent for another time.)

However, it's absolutely vital to recognize which of your qualities and characteristics are at the core of your being, and define who you are. Those things do not need to be "improved" away. They are aspects which need to be accepted and cared for, and if your environment and relationships are hostile to these parts of you, then they will be inimical to your soul.

The trick, of course, is in knowing how to differentiate between qualities to nurture, and qualities to work on. I'm afraid I don't have a clean answer for that. Being honest with yourself about this can be a terribly difficult, scary and slippery task.

The other trick is in not hating yourself for needing to improve. We are often so afraid to admit that we are flawed, that when we finally face this, we end up having self-loathing to deal with, too!

I've learned to choose better friends, and I'm much more comfortable with myself as a result. I feel like the people in my life now actually do accept me, and like me for who I am. They don't tell me to fucking lighten up.