Tell your dreams and make them die
I realized today that much of my defeatist feelings of going after what I wanted was based on my relationship with my brother. He was very jealous of my abilities and was able to play on my parents sympathy and misplaced efforts to either placate his tantrums, or be evenhanded. Their idea of evenhanded required equality - that is, if I had something, it was required that he have it also.
The only reason he didn't start driving when I did, was that state laws required that a person be 16 before they could drive. And I was never able to win in an argument with him with my parents, as the older brother, I always had to give in, or accept his version of the situation.
Once when I was 12, my grandmother gave me a microscope for my birthday, when he had asked to borrow it, he broke it, rather than return it. We could not afford to repair it, or get another, so I had this very nice gift for about two hours before he broke it beyond repair. He worked hard at preventing me from getting things I wanted, or took things he wanted, from me, and managed to convince my parents they were his. After he had appropriated several of my pairs of pants, I learned to embroider my blue jeans so he wouldn't want them. It made me even more weird in the eyes of the other kids at school, but since I was bookish and shy and intellectual, I didn't mind so much. At least, I stopped having to argue about which pants were mine.
If I voiced my wants clearly, he would take them, or work to make it so I couldn't get them, or thwart them, or destroy them so I couldn't have the things I wanted. I learned that the quickest way to have my wants thwarted or destroyed was to voice them clearly. I soon learned to hide them, not to voice my true feelings, or my true wants. That training has carried through to today, so much so, that I'm not real sure what I really want, and am unable to say what I really want clearly. Even to myself. If you say what you want, it can destroy it.
Tell your dreams and make them die.
The only reason he didn't start driving when I did, was that state laws required that a person be 16 before they could drive. And I was never able to win in an argument with him with my parents, as the older brother, I always had to give in, or accept his version of the situation.
Once when I was 12, my grandmother gave me a microscope for my birthday, when he had asked to borrow it, he broke it, rather than return it. We could not afford to repair it, or get another, so I had this very nice gift for about two hours before he broke it beyond repair. He worked hard at preventing me from getting things I wanted, or took things he wanted, from me, and managed to convince my parents they were his. After he had appropriated several of my pairs of pants, I learned to embroider my blue jeans so he wouldn't want them. It made me even more weird in the eyes of the other kids at school, but since I was bookish and shy and intellectual, I didn't mind so much. At least, I stopped having to argue about which pants were mine.
If I voiced my wants clearly, he would take them, or work to make it so I couldn't get them, or thwart them, or destroy them so I couldn't have the things I wanted. I learned that the quickest way to have my wants thwarted or destroyed was to voice them clearly. I soon learned to hide them, not to voice my true feelings, or my true wants. That training has carried through to today, so much so, that I'm not real sure what I really want, and am unable to say what I really want clearly. Even to myself. If you say what you want, it can destroy it.
Tell your dreams and make them die.