Renouncing the "Should's"

This writing process for me has been the unpacking of a suitcase. It's about sifting, right? Sifting through my childhood, my faith experiences, my family of origin and of late, my trauma, my politics, my theology...my life, right? That's what I want to do. I want to learn. And it has been such an ironic process because IT'S SO MESSY. It's laughable for a perfectionist to learn in public. That was always something I was terrified of growing up. I didn't want to screw up or even struggle in front of other people. I considered it embarrassing or something to be ashamed of. So writing about the things I'm learning is really kind of a funny way to continue to confront that base nature which is to be an expert or not engage at all. (As a side note, how unproductive is perfectionism?!?! It's absolutely BONKERS to only engage in things you're good at or to publicly claim things only after they're settled and tidy. It's like living life as a social media feed. Too pretty.)

I was helping someone process something tonight and we got onto the topic of "should's." Growing up in the church, and especially aspiring to be a "good girl," there was a lot of life lived out of the "should's" for me. In my childhood theology, everything was black and white and because of that, there was only one right way to be. IN EVERYTHING. This came up a bit in my recent post about self-care, that we're really uncomfortable with diversity. There isn't space in our culture for more than one reality. And the only correct reality is, of course, the one you hold. Right? It's silly but it's real.

And so we behave, especially if we are "in trouble", according to other people's expectations. And those expectations are usually crystal clear. The "in trouble" dynamic is straight from childhood. And so if someone else is upset, we're supposed to do whatever they think we SHOULD do to "fix" it. Or if we have feelings, we're supposed to couch them because we don't want to upset others. And of course, we don't want to upset others on purpose. But your very existence and your feelings don't exist to upset others. They're yours to hold and experience and to be honest, have nothing to do with others. You get to hold your space, your ground, your truth even if there is a list of "should's" presented to you. 

But we have to make space for that. And that begins with renouncing "should's". My first step in this process was to not re-act. So if I feel a "should" being placed on me, I mull. I don't just react. I hold my feelings, I make space for whatever that "should" is. I run it through the filter of my experiences, my truth. I don't throw it on someone else like a hot potato. That perpetuates "should's". I get to decide what I want to do and I choose not to "should" others as best as I can (it's really hard to do so that's a practice not a perfect). After I hold it, I do what my girl Glennon Doyle says to do. I take 5 minutes to tune out all the should's and am just quiet with myself. I ask myself what the next right thing is. And IT PRESENTS ITSELF. I think about who I want to be in the situation (because even when people give you their "should's" you get to decide how you respond) and what decision or response I can stand behind and be proud of. I choose to be brave. I choose to do hard things. And sometimes, that is resisting the "should's."

It can be incredibly painful, even triggering to a "good girl" who wants the approval of others, to resist the "should's". And many of us don't know who we are when we strip away the "should's." Suddenly, we have to start making decisions for ourselves and that can be incredibly disorienting when you're not used to it. But I can tell you, there is incredible peace that comes from tuning out the "should's" and tuning into yourself. Because no matter what happens, how your actions are taken and processed by others, you get to leave it all on the field. You did what you thought was best and you risked rejection to be true to what you felt was right. And that discernment and courage is a BEAUTIFUL THING. Even great advice from a trusted friend might not be what you need to do. And you won't know until you get into that quiet space and ask yourself. But you get to untangle your choices from the perception of your choices and you get to validate your intent and your heart no matter what. 

Disengaging from people pleasing patterns looks like this. Setting boundaries in dynamics that taught you that setting boundaries is disobedience or rebellion or just wrong looks like this. It's messy. And sometimes people get really mad. But what's cool is YOU KEEP YOUR DIGNITY. You experience peace. You hold the reality that there is so much in life beyond your control. That even if you ran around making everyone else happy, they still might reject you. You can't earn the things you really need: safety, love, acceptance. Those are given freely or they're not real. 

The other thing that's fun about this (read: healthy) is that if all hell breaks loose after you act out your "next right thing", you don't feel any resentment towards others. Because you're not playing out other people's advice in a high stakes game. You're owning your choices and you're making space for the choices of others. When you stand on your own two feet, you're able to take the hits better than if you're acting on the advice of others. You're solid. You've validated yourself. You've weighed your situation and you followed your intuition. And you didn't degrade yourself in the process. It doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. But there's a quiet dignity to taking hits without passing on the pain.

So I encourage you, any time you find yourself thinking or saying the word "should", that's a great time to take a step back and examine things. Now, there are many annoying adulting type activities that we all do and they may very well come from a place of "should." Doing taxes comes to mind. But even re-framing "I should do my taxes to avoid punishment" you can tell yourself "I choose to do my taxes because I'm responsible for my financial health and well-being." Do you see the difference? We all have so many choices! If your brain likes to only present you with one option and lots of "should's", I encourage you to explore all your options and get quiet with yourself and find your next right thing. Thanks, Glennon.  

Why I Write

There are a few main reasons why I write. It is both personal and communal. The personal part is that writing helps me give words to my experiences, feelings and thoughts. Words are the tools I use to process those things and to engage in the world. There is a life-long love affair being conducted between me and words. It's probably one of the reasons I talk so much! The communal part is that I recognize that not everyone has the words for their experiences but when they read someone else's words, their heart recognizes a friend. And I think that is so incredibly important. Seeing yourself in another person's experience gives you a sense of not being alone and sometimes it helps you feel like you're not crazy, which is something we often tell women when their feelings are big. Sometimes how someone responds to a situation is different than how you tend to respond and that's fascinating and maybe even helpful. The human experience of being isolated is so incredibly damaging to who we are. So, in my vulnerability, if I'm able to give words to another mother, another child, another whomever, I am willing to do that because I think this work deeply matters. Stories are life. And life is best when shared.

I recently shared an old story (if you can call three months ago old) that got a lot of response. I like response! It's kind of a writers nightmare to have no one respond to your work. It makes you feel like maybe your experiences aren't shared and that's sad. Some responses are hard to process, especially because they may hit on things that hadn't occurred to me or make me feel misunderstood or hurt. That's part of this process too. And that's okay. But it doesn't mean it isn't hard. It's really hard for me. And that bad ass in me who puts words to feelings is not always present when words are presented back to me directly. I need to be honest about that. I don't write because I can take a lot of hits. I write in spite of the hits that will come.

If there was any kind of "agenda" (does anyone else hate that word?) in my latest post, it was based in this place. This place that wants to give words and honor experience. This place that wants kids to be safe and adults to be careful with them. I think that's a good place to write from, even when anger pours out of it. Anger can be really, really good and that's something I need to continually affirm as anger was not acceptable for me to display as a child and it's still not okay for me to display as a woman, at least not without suspicion of some kind of intended harm. There was no harmful intent here.

It's funny because after the last writing-related blow up, my husband teased me about being a "pot stirrer." And we laughed, mainly because I stir a lot of pots with a lot of discomfort. I stir pots when I find opportunities to advocate for things more important than my discomfort. And that is true here. I wrote in hopes that other parents would have words for those moments when your heart gives pause and you don't know why. I wrote to inspire conversation with children, to empower others to allow their kids to have a say in what's taught to them and to make space for their process. I wrote to engage on a parenting front. This was a conversation I had between me and my daughter that I chose to make public. Fallout with other adults, teachers, church leaders was not even on my radar and frankly, such a lesser concern to me than what my post was about. I would like to point out that I was intentional about not being specific about who was involved or where we received this teaching. I learned that lesson and it was painful! If it was revealed in response who was part of this, that was not my doing. And I could care-take that I should have anticipated that as a possibility but I'm going to release that. I didn't reveal those things. It's not that I don't care how adults view my writing or my approach to my situation from VBS but it's that it entirely misses the point of my post. Adult feelings take a back seat to how we plant seeds in children's hearts about themselves and about God. That's why I didn't process my feelings about my kid with my kid. I processed my kids feelings with my kid and my feelings with other adults. And I did that when this happened. 

I do want to clarify something that doesn't seem to have been clear in my original post.

I HAVE NO PERSONAL PROBLEM WITH THE TEACHER IN THIS SITUATION.

I have no relationship with this person. I do not know her. And if anything, I'VE BEEN HER. You guys realize that I taught things like this, right?!?! Mostly to teens, which was at least slightly more developmentally appropriate but still regretful (there is a future post here for sure), but I have been this person time and time again. And my heart twinged but I read the script (she followed the curriculum, which was why I was angry about the curriculum, not the person following it). And I did it with good intent. And I did it because I did what I was told. And I did it because I believed it. I meant what I told my daughter that morning. I told her we could extend her teacher grace and for once, thank God, I wasn't just trying to do the right thing and be a good example to my kid. I was actually able to do the right thing in that moment. I knew then as I know now that I was being triggered by a whole lot of baggage, decades of baggage, that had absolutely nothing to do with her as a person. So writing this story three months later came with absolutely no negative feelings towards her. And if for some reason, this stranger has come upon my writing (that could only really happen if someone deliberately shared it with her), I want to say - we're cool. I have no beef with you. And if my pain hurt you, that was not my intent. 

I do want us to be careful with our curriculum selection. That was the only "to do" I was hoping to see in response. That's all :)

I also learned something about myself before things got really stressful in the response. I learned that I have allowed my perfectionism into the space of my theology and how I teach theology to my children. My anger came from a visceral response to anyone violating that sacred space. And that comes from a deep protectiveness that was not honored in my soul or in my husband's soul when he was fired. And having that first seed of dishonor planted in my child triggered me in a real way. This is trauma, friends. I was hurt. My husband was hurt. So anything that looks remotely like that trauma placed upon my innocent child brought out the mama bear claws. And honestly, I'm okay with that. I can validate those feelings with or without the understanding of my peers. Because trauma is a tapestry. When you pull at that thread, which I've been doing for six years, sometimes things unravel. That's how we get to the root of the problem. That's the personal side. The church of Christ side is that we've created a dynamic where we do what we're told, especially women, and we honestly believe it's okay to teach young children about sin. We think that's important. I don't. And that's not mine to hold. I get to decide what to do with my experience. It might look like not participating in VBS. That seems like a tidy, obvious answer. Except my kid might conclude that she's missing out on something she enjoys with her friends because she opened up to her mom. Right? I'm going to tread lightly in what this looks like for me in the future. And that's okay. Because it's October. I don't have to know what I'm going "to do" in this moment. Is it possible that there is nothing to do? Just to hold pain and acknowledge it? For me, yes. Sometimes that's more than enough to do for the day. So that's where I'll be today. Home. Holding my pain. And giving it the validation it needs. Hugs to you, friends. Whether you get it or not, pain is universal.