(no subject)
So Toby had a birthday yesterday, in which he received a Lego Mindstorms set from Lisa's dad. Apparently, Toby's been asking for and dreaming about them for ages. His grandfather told him some time back that when he could read, he would get one. Not long ago, Toby approached his grandfather and said, simply, "I can read." Because kids don't forget those things. (And Toby is reading. He made it through most of his birthday cards.) When Toby opened the box, he was over the moon.
Made me a bit jealous, honestly. ::grin::
Been thinking lately about my brain, and how it works, about my psyche and the things that go on in it, and about how I deal with it. And, y'know, I've got some walls in place that I need to take down.
Where they come from is almost irrelevant. I know I've had trust issues ever since that ordeal with Robyn, years ago. I know that going further back, when I was a kid and I realized that children are cruel and prey upon the weak, that one way to be left alone is to project an image of strength. And I have a terrible desire to be admired and a terrible fear of being pitied. I don't think I'm a full-on unapproachable ice queen (I don't think), but walls are walls, and if they're in the wrong place or built the wrong way, they need to come down.
And I'm not a kid anymore. There may be adults in the world who are stuck in high school, but that doesn't mean that I have to react to them in the same way. I shouldn't care if anybody thinks me weak or pitiable. Because the right people will see it as an opportunity to help. The right people will take courage to be open themselves. The right people already know that weakness isn't shameful. The right people can help me grow. Most importantly, the right people are people I can create strong relationships with, which helps us all.
It's crazy. I've gotten pretty good at every form of constructive criticism except those relating to, y'know, me. I like critiques of my voice; I know to figure out if they're valid, following them if they are, and dismissing them if they're not. (Or following them anyway because it's not my show and/or it doesn't matter that much.) Advice about my conduct or plans or life is much harder to handle. My default reaction is anger. How messed up is that? As if someone else's opinion is an assault on my identity. Which is a load of hooey because 1) nobody can assault my identity, and 2) there are plenty of people whose opinions of me, including wrong opinions, are honest and well-meant. I need to stop deflecting corrections out of hand. I need to do more than recognize that someone might know better than me, and actually, y'know, ask. I need to let people help me when I'm upset or sad or distressed, even when my upset or sadness or distress is unreasonable. I have a hard time believing other people can be wise - perhaps this is because I never give them the chance to prove it.
Boy howdy, am I ever asking for trouble. ::takes a deep breath:: Any suggestions?
Made me a bit jealous, honestly. ::grin::
Been thinking lately about my brain, and how it works, about my psyche and the things that go on in it, and about how I deal with it. And, y'know, I've got some walls in place that I need to take down.
Where they come from is almost irrelevant. I know I've had trust issues ever since that ordeal with Robyn, years ago. I know that going further back, when I was a kid and I realized that children are cruel and prey upon the weak, that one way to be left alone is to project an image of strength. And I have a terrible desire to be admired and a terrible fear of being pitied. I don't think I'm a full-on unapproachable ice queen (I don't think), but walls are walls, and if they're in the wrong place or built the wrong way, they need to come down.
And I'm not a kid anymore. There may be adults in the world who are stuck in high school, but that doesn't mean that I have to react to them in the same way. I shouldn't care if anybody thinks me weak or pitiable. Because the right people will see it as an opportunity to help. The right people will take courage to be open themselves. The right people already know that weakness isn't shameful. The right people can help me grow. Most importantly, the right people are people I can create strong relationships with, which helps us all.
It's crazy. I've gotten pretty good at every form of constructive criticism except those relating to, y'know, me. I like critiques of my voice; I know to figure out if they're valid, following them if they are, and dismissing them if they're not. (Or following them anyway because it's not my show and/or it doesn't matter that much.) Advice about my conduct or plans or life is much harder to handle. My default reaction is anger. How messed up is that? As if someone else's opinion is an assault on my identity. Which is a load of hooey because 1) nobody can assault my identity, and 2) there are plenty of people whose opinions of me, including wrong opinions, are honest and well-meant. I need to stop deflecting corrections out of hand. I need to do more than recognize that someone might know better than me, and actually, y'know, ask. I need to let people help me when I'm upset or sad or distressed, even when my upset or sadness or distress is unreasonable. I have a hard time believing other people can be wise - perhaps this is because I never give them the chance to prove it.
Boy howdy, am I ever asking for trouble. ::takes a deep breath:: Any suggestions?