It came up in a couple of my counseling sessions that I’ve chosen the past of more resistance more than once in my life. Some of these instances leave me feeling like I’m always fighting, or always ready for a fight. Obviously having this filter on can lead to interactions being … different than if I had a less combative filter.
For example, in 7th and 8th grade I played football. American football on my school’s team. In part, this came from a boy telling me in 6th grade that girls couldn’t play football. *challenge accepted*
Granted, the smaller version of myself had no idea the mental hurdles this endeavor would involve. The physical ones were hard enough, but to be the only girl? Let’s just say I never really felt like I was part of the team.
And even with it being so hard in 7th grade, I went back and did it again in 8th grade! Same teasing. Same feeling of isolation. I sort of liked parts of it, but not really enough to stay. Yet I did. Out of a sense of stubbornness. Out of a sense of not wanting to look like a quitter.
Fast forward to the summer of 2018. Six months before a friend said, “Let’s go to the the Route Verte in Canada and ride bikes in celebration of your 40th birthday.” Me: “Hells yeah!”
So I started fixing up my bike. Then I went for a ride on the hills of San Antonio, FL and realized my bike wouldn’t cut it. So I built a new bike. And then I prepared to ride 500 miles in Canada. On a bike! In mountains! In cold, windy, rainy weather!
The steepest hill in Florida only rises to 345 feet above sea level. I rode mountains that were more than three times that big, with measured grades up to 17%! Why did I choose such a challenging 40th birthday adventure?
While I admit that was a trip I’ll never forget, I also found myself wondering that question throughout it and shed a few tears because of it too. Why did I choose such a challenge? What was I trying to prove, and to whom? Hadn’t I already shown I could do hard things by persevering through my Ph.D.? By playing football in middle school? By surviving my divorce with some measure of grace?
Why did I keep choosing these sorts of battles in my life? And when I saw that they weren’t quite what I was wanting or expecting, why did I stick with them?
Because that pattern most certainly hurt me when I was married. “Oh, it will get better.” “It’s just a phase. A rough patch. All marriages go through stuff like this.” Stick with it. Keep on pedaling. Pick yourself up out of the dirt, gasping from the wind that was knocked from you to keep pushing to the next line.
This pattern has also hurt me in more instantaneous interactions. If I get angry about something it’s hard for me to let go. I want to keep the dialogue going. I want to have the last word. Keep on pedaling. Push through and past the awkwardness and discomfort.
I’m relearning sometimes it’s Ok to just stop. Right now. Stop and evaluate. It’s ok to realize that your actions are hurting you.
In the process of doing the KonMari method of tidying in my apartment, the idea of ‘does it spark joy’ resounds in my brain. Not everything will. Not always. But if it’s not sparking any joy for too long, maybe it’s time to let it go.
And how will I know when that breaking point is? Well, I’ll need to have my wits about me. I’ll need to be able to access that calm, quiet place where I can hear my true voice that says, “Why the hell are you doing this?” (It was totally saying this during parts of my bike tour last year!) Or maybe more positively, “It’s Ok to let this go.”
Sometimes you have to test the waters before you know something is wrong for you. But it is Ok to stop if it is.
This summer I’m getting back to my regular meditation practice. I’m in counseling. I’m gaining more skills to help catch those subtle and not-so-subtle cues of when I’m fighting for the wrong reasons. And learning to let it go.
I think I’ve always taken life to be extremely serious business. I’d like to change that. I’d like to laugh more instead of getting angry and frustrated. I’d like to assume the best in people, instead of thinking folks are out to get me. I’d like to remember that others have different stories that filter their experiences.
That’s the goal. A little less struggle caused by my combative filter. A little move of the love, light, and happiness filter as much as possible.