Monday, January 19, 2009

Hyenas and Secret Cheerleaders

Here are some fairly "new to me" concepts that I'm going to blow by you. I've only recently had light bulb moments with regards to some time and attention-related issues.

If people give you a "can't put your finger on it" creepy-crawly feeling, trust your instincts.

I've finally learned to pull the plug on relationships with people who make me feel odd sensations. Hyenas. Jellyfishers. Possible predators. Stalkers. Haters. People who want to use me. Weird people who imagine a closeness and intimacy that does not exist and try to tell me what to do. Or people who think their own situations would be better if I were not around. And I don't feel guilty about it. I owe no explanations. No guilt. I've got other projects to pursue, other people to give my attention to. I will no longer waste my time and my energy on people who give me the feeling that they are either misrepresenting themselves or have hidden agendas. I'm not going to get paranoid. I'm not going to make dramatic scenes. I'm going to quietly slip out the back door.

People who have good intentions do not give you creepy crawly feelings. It's just that simple.



I will give my time and attention to those who are responsive to me.

I'm from the old school of people pleasers. My numero uno rule was to slosh my attentions all over people who did not deserve them. It was partly about being accepted. It was partly about "saving" people. And the more I needed to be saved, the more I ignored my own needs and tried to save others. I think the real intent was to save myself by proxy without having to admit that I had a problem, and to avoid spending any time thinking about myself. If I didn't see myself, I could pretend that I didn't exist. And if I didn't exist, it was easy to drink too much, stay up too late, put myself in dangerous situations, abuse my body, compromise my principles and be generally unkind to myself.

I didn't know it, but I was angry about some things, and took that anger out on myself instead of an appropriate target, or better yet - letting it evaporate into the light. I ignored those who were consistent in liking me, in being responsive to me, and in just "being there". I already had them, so there was no work to be done there. And who wants to be a part of any club that will have me for a member, anyway? Why do they like me? There must be something fundamentally wrong with their character. Better to be around people who cared nothing about me and allowed me to harm myself. As a numbed-out zombie, at least in harming myself I could feel something, anything, as proof that I was in fact still alive.

STUPID! No more. I'm going to give my time and attention to those who are responsive and reciprocal. They don't have to be a major part of my life, but I will no longer chase the attentions of people who ignore me or who are not good for me. If you've been friendly and supportive and kind to me and I've ignored you, I am so incredibly sorry. It was no reflection on you. It was a reflection on me. To those who responded to me, like The Bitter Half, when you showed me myself I became someone else—myself. Thank you for seeing me, and for illuminating my reflection in your mirror.

I will thank my lucky stars for my secret cheerleaders.

I'm beginning to realize that we all have secret cheerleaders. They root for us and pray for us behind the scenes. Either intentionally or incidentally, they fly under our radar. We might be alerted to the presence of our secret cheerleaders during a conflict or personal challenge. It is during these times that we fully expect our best and closest friends to step up to the plate and support us, or to gently get in our faces and tell us the honest truth. We may be surprised when instead, people on the periphery of our lives, about whom we never thought much or expected to be thought of by, are the ones who poke in their heads, uplift us and point us in the direction of the sun.

If only there were a way to identify them when the chips are still up.

Thank you secret cheerleaders. I'm going to be somebody's secret cheerleader too.

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