Utter Failures

How many of you feel guilty when you say “no”? Or do you feel pressured to say “yes” to every offer or request? Or maybe you don’t like saying either, so you give a vague answer like “maybe” and secretly hope you can wiggle out of it later? It’s hard to set limits, both for ourselves and as we relate to other people. For one thing, we worry about what people will think of us if we tell them we either can’t or choose not to do something. So we say “yes” out of fear/guilt. On the other hand, if you’re a “yes” type and like to volunteer for lots of things, you can feel guilty about what other things take a hit from having to shuffle priorities. There’s a character in Bleak House named Mrs. Jellyby. While her household runs amok, she fastidiously writes letters related to setting up a mission for a tribe in Africa. Certainly a noble cause. But she ignores the needs around her and her current obligations, even as her children cry from neglect and her husband wears a hole in the wall f

The walls I built up did not come down easily. They were effective for sure, and they kept out the pain I wanted to avoid, but they were deceptive. They were quietly betraying me. The problem with a wall is that, while it keeps out bad things, it also keeps out good things. When I told Jeremy back in 2006 that I was not interested in dating him, it was because of a wall intended to keep out heartbreak or being let down. When I decided that I would not care at all about anyone’s approval or opinions (e.g. emotionally “shut down”), it was because of a wall intended to keep out the pain of disapproval and not being “good enough.” When I kept friends at a distance, not letting anyone get too close, it was because of a wall intended to keep out people who might betray my trust or not come through for me. And as with a lot of things, what starts out as a good intention or idea, when not kept in check, turns into something that controls you in the end. There’s wisdom in