Houston, We Have A Problem

Actually, Houston, we have multiple problems, but the main one here is that my ability to be a people pleaser is fading fast; I used to crave being a people pleaser ---- I made it a huge part of my identity and who I was ---- because I used to love to make people happy, even if that meant that I had to sacrifice my own happiness. In a weird way, making people happy made me happy... for a little while at least.

But I can't do it anymore ---- I can't keep trying to do what I think everyone around me wants or expects me to do, because I am so so tired of trying to make everyone around me happy; it seems like no matter how hard I try or how much I do, it's never enough. People can't and never will be able to be completely pleased, and I need to get it through my head that (despite a part of me desperately still wanting to) I am never ever going to be able to please everyone. Someone, somewhere, is always going to disagree.

I feel like I am more frustrated than I have ever been in my entire life, or maybe I have been this frustrated before and I've just ignored it. Maybe it's all just hitting me now because I'm in that awkward stage of my early twenties where nothing ever makes sense and I'm still trying (yet failing HARD) to "adult." Still, though, I have never understood ---- and still don't understand ---- how the hell I'm supposed to figure out who I am or who I even want to be when people are constantly disagreeing with everything I say or do. How am I supposed to make my own decisions if I'm always being told, "No, actually, you should really make this decision, because the decision that is YOURS is wrong/unrealistic/stupid/etc."

How am I ever supposed to learn anything, like how to be independent or how to be my own person without constantly relying on someone else to tell me what I should do, if I never have the chance to make my own mistakes? Making mistakes are a part of life ---- they should be made ---- because they help the person to learn and, more importantly, to grow. I want to learn and grow. But it's hard, because it feels like every time I try to learn, I'm just told that what I'm learning isn't right; it feels like every time I try to grow (even just a tiny inch), I'm stepped on again... it makes me feel like a flower bud that is never actually ever going to bloom into anything beautiful.

Recently, I've started making a mental list of some of the things that people have been disagreeing with me about:

a) My tattoos: *person points at them* "You're going to regret those when you're older. You know that, right?"

b) Quitting my waitressing job: "Well... why'd you quit? Every job you have you have is going to be hard. You can't just quit every time you think a job is too hard or because you don't like it that much. Sometimes we have to do things in life that we don't like."

c) The way I dress: "Aren't you going to wear different shoes?" or "Why are you wearing that?"

d) Eating habits: "Why do you have so much food on your plate?" or "Why aren't you eating anything?"

e) How often I smile: "Smile, sweetheart!" or "Why aren't you smiling?"

f) Living at home: "Wow, I would never choose to live at home with my parents. I want to move out as soon as I'm done with college.."

g) My nails: "Why do you have fake nails? They're too long."

h) What I'm doing with my life now: "So you don't have a job? Wow, that's tough... are you applying to places or are you just sitting around doing nothing?"

.... and, slowly but surely, I've been trying to formulate responses to them:

a) My tattoos are each representations of different "wheres" that I have been in my life; each one represents a point in time when I was struggling (and how I overcame that struggle), and so they are all extremely meaningful; why would I ever regret something that is meaningful to me?

The very first one I got was the one on my left ribs of boxing gloves that says, "Strong." It is a daily reminder to me that every day may be a fight, but I am strong ---- I am fully capable of being brave enough to deal with whatever problems, challenges, and obstacles life may throw at me. The second one, a small rising sun on my left wrist, is a reminder that even after the rainiest days or the darkest nights, the sun will always rise. Finally, the last one, the sun flower on my right clavicle, is a reminder that there are still happy and beautiful things in the world; this summer, despite the sadness I often felt ---- despite the eternal ugliness that I felt was (and is) present in the world ---- sunflowers were a great source of happiness for me. They are such lovely things ---- so bright and vibrant and beautiful ---- and it's so hard not to smile when looking at them.

I wanted a permanent reminder of all of these feelings, and what's so wrong with that? What's so wrong with wanting permanent reminders that every day is a fight, but I am strong; that the sun will always rise; that happiness and beauty can still be possible despite the sadness and ugliness that, unfortunately, will forever be present in the world we're living in? Why is it such a bad thing to put something on my body ---- MY body ---- that I wanted, two out of the three of which that I paid for with the money that I earned? WHY ARE TATTOOS SUCH A BAD THING?

I get it. Tattoos aren't exactly "professional," and if I want to be a lawyer one day, having tattoos will apparently decrease the chance of me being fully successful (as if my qualifications, personality, work ethic, etc will having nothing to do with it at all). Even if this were close to the truth, a simple solution would be that all of my tattoos can easily be covered up, and even if someone were to notice the one on my wrist (because I'm imagining that that would be the only one that would be noticeable, especially if I were to wear a short sleeved shirt), it is small and classy. It is literally a SUN. Since when are suns offensive? For that matter, since when are sunflowers offensive? Since when are boxing gloves offensive?

b) I didn't quit my waitressing job just because it was hard and I couldn't handle it anymore; yes, that was a big reason. It was stressful and running around like a crazy person trying to handle all my tables made me so sweaty that I would feel like I just ran ten miles (fun fact, though: there was one shift where I walked EIGHT MILES just from moving around the restaurant so much). Being a waitress sucked --- customer service wasn't, isn't, and never will be easy. I quit because I don't think you are supposed to hate (with every fiber of your being!) the job that you have; I don't think you are supposed to dread going to work so much that you would rather go to the dentist or eat a plateful of broccoli rather than have to work that day; I don't think a job is supposed to repeatedly make you cry.

The fact that I couldn't get my anxiety completely under control is definitely the main reason for all of these terrible feelings, and though it's true that every job is going to be stressful and is therefore going to cause me major anxiety, I still would hope that I will at least like my job sometimes. The bottom line was that I didn't like being a waitress, and though I admire people who are able to be one for years and years and years, I knew that I could never do it; being a waitress wasn't ---- and isn't ---- for me.

c) Over the years, I'd like to think that I have developed (somewhat) of a sense of style, and it usually involves trying to be comfortable yet cute. I am a HUGE fan of cool socks, and it makes me sad when people make negative comments about them --- about how they don't think it goes with the outfit, etc. Why does it matter? If I think it's cute and I like them, shouldn't that be enough? Why does it matter if I'm dressing up? Why does there have to be someone that I'm dressing up for? Why can't I dress up just for me?

d) I understand when people comment when I don't eat ---- they're just concerned and want to make sure I'm healthy. But lately, I haven't been hungry, and when I force myself to eat just because I know I'm supposed to, it makes my stomach hurt. I can't win. However, I don't understand why or how someone could ever think it's okay to comment about how much I'm eating. I'm eating a lot because I want to; I'm eating a lot because I'm hungry, and it GRINDS MY GEARS when people feel the need to make me feel shitty about myself for doing so. Being a girl has been, is, and always will be hard, especially because of the pressure to always be stick thin and remain stick thin even after stupid bodily changes; add the pressure from stupid people commenting on how much food is on my plate, and I am faced with even more frustration and anger.

e) Don't. tell. me. to. smile. Many times, I have been walking in a store or down the street (i.e. at the first university I attended) and a random stranger would tell me to smile, that I shouldn't be frowning. Why shouldn't I be? What's wrong with actually allowing yourself to show that you're sad or upset instead of just acting like a robot and smiling because someone is telling you to? Yes, I said in my previous post that I want to try to smile more, but that doesn't mean I'm going to smile every second of every day. It isn't necessary to, because it is completely okay to not smile sometimes; it is completely okay to feel other emotions as well.

f) I sometimes dream about living on my own, about being able to decorate everything the way I want it and keep everything neat and tidy because I like organization. This would be the dream, and moving out of my parents' house after college in order to make this dream a reality would be so cool. However, with student loans looming threateningly over my head and my bank account screaming and crying for me to feed it, this dream is not even close to possible. I live at home because I can't afford to move out, and when people make snide comments about me "still living at home," it makes me feel like I'm not doing anything productive with my life even though I am trying SO. HARD.

g) I recently decided that it was time for my fake nails to go, but instead of going to the nail salon for them to do it, I decided to take on the challenge of doing it myself; it was a very painful process. However, back when I did have fake nails, numerous people would always comment on why I even had and paid for them in the first place or why I had them so long. My anxiety makes me a giant ball of nerves; as a result, for as long as I can remember, I have had the bad habit of biting my nails. To try to curb this habit, I got fake nails (because you can't exactly bite off fake nails!) and because they looked pretty. The length didn't really matter to me ---- as long as they weren't suuuuper long and I could still properly hold a pen, put my hair in a ponytail, button my pants, and put on jewelry, then I was content; it upset me that people could so quickly make this content-ness go away with just a simple, seemingly harmless comment.

h) Graduating college has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life, if not THE most rewarding experience (so far); it's also been stressful, because although law school is on the horizon so I'm not quite done with school yet, graduating means that I need to find a job until law school starts (most likely in Fall 2019). Even though I am still being productive during my jobless days ---- writing, reading, painting, cleaning, and doing laundry --- even though I've been working on improving myself by going to therapy and psychiatrist appointments, I have felt so lazy because of the comments people make; there are people who think that I just literally lie around all day doing nothing, and I feel so incredibly guilty for it; I know that I need to find a job. I'M TRYING TO FIND ONE.

It's hard trying to please everyone.

It's even harder knowing that I will never be able to please everyone.

It's hardest trying to take deep breaths when the pressure feels so heavy.

Houston, how am I not supposed to let myself be consumed by all of these problems?

xoxo,

Mag