“Self-sabotage” she called it. She said it’s what I did–what I described as flying high in the clouds and then jerking myself down on my face before anyone else could.
I suppose she was right.
Because a year and a half ago, a friend looked at me and said, “You’re really ok with being broken. But maybe you should learn to be ok with being whole.”
I was crushed, naturally. Who, me? Whole? Do the two even go together?
I struggled with that string of words. I journaled about it, stared into the distance thinking over it, got angry about it. I wondered if other people saw me in the same broken way I felt about myself. Perhaps parading broken pieces is in fact a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Back to the self-sabotage moment, which has happened in more recent weeks. I’m learning my lesson, I promise.
See, the problem is that once everything seems to be going fine–once anxiety’s claws aren’t digging into my skin–I wonder if in fact things aren’t fine. Things can’t be fine, because things are often very wrong. In my mind at least. Though anxiety is far from enjoyable, it’s a mindset in which I’ve learned to survive. When it’s gone, so is a sense of security–and that’s when I yank myself from the heights onto my face. Better to fall when I’m closer to the ground than to nosedive it from the heavens, right?
Underneath the surface of a broken exterior is an insatiable desire for people pleasing.
We praise people pleasing. We define it as something it’s not. ‘Cause it’s not actually caring for other people, it’s straight up self-sabotage.
It’s selfishness to the core.
It’s a lack of a backbone.
It’s my anxiety controlling my decisions, not my actual need for health and personal wellness.
For too long, I’ve encouraged brokenness. I’ve celebrated–with good intentions–caring for others and keeping the peace to the point of people pleasing. But there comes a time when we must fully grow into our spines and stand up a little taller and say, “No. I don’t agree with that.”
There comes a time when being whole is in fact very beautiful, and believing that anxiety’s not always around the corner out to get you is truth. There comes a time when someone you admire says, “you self-sabotaged; now pick yourself up off the floor and get moving.”
Let’s say no more often, and connect our broken pieces. Let’s stand taller and eat the ice cream cone and be ok with flying high in the clouds every once in a while.