My Truth Equals Their “Victim”

(Disclaimer- I proofread this post a dozen times and used Grammarly to help. If you see any mistakes, I’m only human.  And I am not perfect.  Thanks for reading!  Please share and comment!)

Last week I posted a blog called, “Dear Scared White People” that I felt needed to be said, written and read.  I knew that with that title alone, there were sure to be some negative comments.  I have posted that blog before and the ridiculous comments I received were from people I could tell did not read it.  This time I only received two adverse comments from people who took that time to read it (which I appreciate) before misconstruing EVERYTHING I was saying.  But I digress, that’s not what this post is about.  No, this post is about one particular from a gentleman who commented, “Race relations also aren’t nearly as bad as many people think.  The world is not out to get you, and this was painful to read simply because it seems like an attempt to play victim.”

1.) Race relations ARE THAT BAD.  If he truly looked around at what’s really going on in this world instead only focusing on HIS experience is in this world, he would see that.

2.) The reality star sitting in the White House playing, “pretend President” just tweeted that four congresswomen (who are all women of color) should go back to their home countries. Three of which were born and raised in America.

3.) RACE RELATIONS ARE THAT BAD.

But just to reiterate, that’s not what this post is about.  This post is about the last part of his comment where he said my post seemed like, “an attempt to play victim.”  Why is it that whenever anyone tells their truth in this world, the opposition always says that they are playing the victim.   According to Webster’s Dictionary, a victim is, “One that is acted on and usually adversely affected by a force or agent.  One that is subjected to oppression, hardship, or mistreatment.”  Just to be clear, that blog post was not about, “playing the victim” in a big bad world full of racist bullies.  (Hope you could pick up the sarcasm in my description of the world.)  That post was about showing the facts as they are for African Americans in America.  Period.

I have heard the word “victim” thrown around in other situations, not just race relations.  Whenever a man or a woman speaks out about discrimination in all of its inglorious forms, to those who oppose, they are playing “victim.”  The opposition says they are using the word as a “way for you to absolve yourself and other protected victim groups of the left of personal responsibility” as the gentleman above continued in his comments.  Isn’t he a gem?  (Insert hard eye roll here)  By Webster’s definition above anyone who has been, “subjected to oppression, hardship and mistreatment” is a victim.  Some people because of racism, sexism, sexual orientation, or their financial class in society.  They are, by definition, victims.

The opposition (whoever is on the opposite of your position) seems to never take the time to hear what you are saying.  This is usually because they are getting their rebuttals ready in their minds.  They are digging deep in their cerebrum to compose thoughts to justify why you’re wrong and they’re right.  And to find reasons why it’s, “not nearly as bad.”  Calling someone a “victim” is a hell of a lot easier than dealing with the reality of the truth.  And the one thing most of us humans fear the most (besides public speaking and death) is the truth.  It forces us to take a deeper look at ourselves and those around us in a way that is often uncomfortable.  I know that I have struggled with learning certain truths about myself and the way I think.  But the one thing I don’t have trouble doing is hearing someone else’s truth, listening and empathizing.  I may not be able to fully relate to their situation, but I don’t disregard it by claiming they are making an, “attempt to play victim.”

Everyone in this world is going through something at some time or another.  And no one can speak to anyone else’s experience in this world because they can’t exactly walk in their shoes.  Instead of quickly labeling someone a “victim”, why not take the time to find out what the world is like for them.  Because just because you don’t see, doesn’t mean it’s not real.  I’ve never seen our planetary universe with my own eyes, but I know it’s there.

Advertisements

Clean up the milk and move on…

(Disclaimer- I proofread this thing a dozen times and used an online site to help. If you see any mistakes, I’m only human and not perfect. Thanks for reading!)

If you read last week’s post, then you know that I love listening to a podcast called, “The Read” hosted by Crissle and Kid Fury.  In the episode called, “Cheerleader”, Crissle spoke on her depression, seeing her therapist and the advice given by the therapist.  The therapist compared negative self-talk to running a race. (See last week’s post for full description.)  Crissle’s therapist went on to give an example about forgiving your past mistakes.  Her therapist said, “Let’s say a child spilled a cup of milk.  Are you going to every time you see that child, every day for the rest of their life be like, remember the time when you were 5 and 38 days and you spilled milk?  And I had to use three of my good Bounty’s to clean it up?  And replace my eight ounces of milk.  Are you going to drag that baby for that?  Or are we going to clean up the milk and move on with our fucking lives?”  From that moment on, Crissle decided that she had to clean up the milk in her life.  She would stop blaming herself non-stop and start looking forward again. Bam!  It hit me like a ton of bricks!  Is that what I have been doing the majority of my adult life?  Bitching over milk I spilled when I was young, naive and didn’t know any better.  Constantly berating myself over and over for situations that no longer exist and couldn’t be changed anyway.  Being my own biggest critic/ hater has always been a real hotbed issue for me.  After hearing the example that Crissle’s therapist gave her, I fully comprehend what my problem has been.  I have a lack of compassion for myself.  Isn’t that a fucked up thing to find out about yourself.

My understanding and heart is always so large for others.  I am able to fully support others with mistakes they have made in the past with my encouraging words.  But when it comes to having those same words for myself, there’s been little to none.  It is as if I don’t allow myself space to make mistakes or bad decisions.  For some reason, that is not allowed in my world.  For me, it’s not so much that I’m trying to be perfect.  I know this will never happen.  And that is completely all right with me.  Trying to be perfect, looks like a lot of work that I simply wouldn’t be dedicated to doing.  So where does my lack of self-compassion stem from?  Why is it that I can be so kind and uplifting for others, but not myself?  I am very skilled at stopping someone from beating themselves up.  I’m also very good at telling someone to have more patience with themselves and quick to say, “Everyone makes mistakes.”  Sometimes I can see the potential in others way more than I can see it in myself.  I have given myself far too much cruel kindness.  That is clearly something I would never do to another person.  Maybe I thought I was helping myself by giving cruel kindness.  By reminding myself of unpleasant situations I have been through, this would somehow help me to never to make those mistakes again.  By constantly replaying situations and poor choices, I would somehow learn to never do it again.  I found that this is unacceptable behavior and an oxymoron that simply makes no sense.  So what are the steps I plan on doing to change this behavior?

Step 1- Acknowledge that I am not compassion with myself.  Seems easy enough right?  But until one can admit to themselves that they have a problem, the situation can’t be fixed.

Step 2- Accept that mistakes have been made.  I’m human and humans make mistakes.  Some of the mistakes I made were necessary in order for me to learn and grow.  They taught me to make better choices and to listen to my gut.  Without making certain mistakes, I wouldn’t have become the person I am today.  And right now, I think I’m pretty awesome.  🙂

Step 3- Change the thought.  When NENE just won’t seem to shut her negative pie hole, I have to quickly remind myself of how awesome I am.  I begin to think of all the accomplishments that I have made over the years.  I will speak positive affirmations that prompt my brain to go down a more optimistic path.

Step 4- Forgive myself. This one will truly be the hardest to do of all the steps. I’ll have to learn that I’m still a good, smart person, who has flaws. No more or less than anyone else, just flaws. My past choices or decisions do not dictate how much I have grown. They also don’t determine my future. I will give myself a pep talk when I think of a mistake and move on. I will not dwell on choices and things in the past that can’t be changed.

As long as I’m walking the Earth, I will make mistakes.  It’s an important fact of life that I must remember.  I will acknowledge when I have done so, learn from said mistake, forgive myself and move on.  Because I’m tired of beating myself up over old, spilled milk.

Who am I?

(Disclaimer- I proofread this thing a dozen times and used an online site to help.  If you see mistakes, oh well, I’m only human.  Thanks.)

Last week I found out that I’m going to have to have surgery.  It’s the kind of surgery that women pray they never have to go through.  Especially if they wanted children.  To hear the news from the doctor was devastating at first.  But not for the reason it would be for a woman my age who is childless.  See, having a child was never really in my life’s plan.  I always said I never wanted children because I didn’t like them.  But as the years went on, I came to find out that that was not true.  After working as a Teacher Assistant (a job I fell into) I had a vivid realization.  I freaking love kids!  Ages 3 to 5 is my favorite group to work with.  But I also find enjoyment in working with older kids as well.  I say all this to say:  Getting pregnant was never on my to-do list.  When I found out where babies came from as a young child, the appeal or desire died that day.  (Insert laughing emoji here)  Seriously though, I thought I would never be a mother.  And honestly, I’m ok with that.  I figured that if the universe wanted me to be a mom, then a child would be sent via adoption.  So to find out that this surgery might possibly remove any chance for me to become a mother biologically, made me feel weird.  Even though as I stated I had no plans for this.  Several questions I never had to think about before popped into my mind as well.  What would I feel like afterward?  How big will the scar be?  Will this completely kill my sex drive?  And most importantly:  Will I feel less like a woman?

The last question really got me to thinking about how I truly viewed myself.  Why have I tied up my womanhood in my reproductive system?  Just because my body can hold life within it, am I not less than because mine may not be able too anymore?  After pondering this, I came to a resounding answer.  Hell no!  Regardless of the outcome of my situation, I will still be who I have always been.  Me.  Yes, this will be a big change. Yes, this will take some adjustment on my part to get used too.  And yes, my mind and body will need time to heal.  But this change is necessary for my well-being and health.

Why do we sometimes began to feel less than ourselves when a sudden change occurs in life?  I’m sure there are people who have worked in a certain field for years and then lost that position.  Now they don’t know who they are if they can’t be that (fill in the blank) they were for 20 years.  There are people who have been in relationships for so long that when it ended, they didn’t recognize themselves anymore.  They have questioned who they were without this person in their life.  Often times when life comes to shake things up, sometimes we start questioning who we are.  I say all this to say, that sometimes we hold onto the idea of who and what we are based on exterior things.  Or even worse, what society dictates what we should be.  Both are destructive behaviors that we must diminish from our lives.  Knowing that I have to have this surgery made me look at myself in a different light.  Which definitely was not healthy for me mentally.  This is a change I that I never actually thought I would have to go through.  But this is happening so I must accept it.  I finally remembered that who I am isn’t wrapped up in my body and what it can and cannot do.  That actualization gave me a sense of freedom.  Freedom in knowing that I’m still the same woman I’ve always been.  If not stronger for actually having to go through this.  And with any other future dramatic life change, I will always remember who I am.  Strong, brave, smart, funny, kind, big-hearted, loyal and a positive thinker.  And truly that’s all that matters.