Being Strong Means Not Wearing an Armor
Out of all qualities in personalities, there were two I personally never cared for. One was the quality of being "nice," another was that of being "strong." I've started a draft on a separate post a long time ago on the idea of "nice," though never published because saying being "nice" is not nice is not really nice. I'm going to continue to procrastinate on that thought. Today, I want to talk about being "strong."
I didn't like when someone told me I was strong. Not because I felt that the comments were insincere or unkind, but because I felt that it was a quality I rather not have. I felt that being strong, or becoming strong, was a character developed over difficult circumstances, and it was those circumstances that I resented. I looked around me and I saw ignorance everywhere, and though the logical part of me thought I didn't want to be ignorant, when you're tired and cynical, ignorance started to look pretty darn good. After all, ignorance is bliss, right? The more you know, the more you're aware of, the more power thus responsibilities you have. And when you're always trying to step up and be the responsible one, you burn out, and you resent everyone and everything around you because you feel that no one has cared about what you want.
Then I came to read the book Daring Greatly by Dr. Brene Brown. She talked about the armor we all wear to protect ourselves from vulnerability. She talked about the culture of "not enough," and that we shut ourselves down and keep away from being seen and heard when we feel that we aren't good enough. She talked about how we feel disconnected when we start to believe that we're not worthy of love and connection because we're less than perfect. That hit home. It's a vicious cycle when we believe that we're not good enough, that if we could try just a little harder we'll be worthy We push and push, hoping for others to accept us and care for us, all the while we're afraid if people knew the real us they just wouldn't like us. You go nowhere. And pretty soon, you don't even have a place to stand.
No wonder I feel fatigued all the time. Being "strong" had always meant for me to keep toughing it up, biting the bullet, to ignore the self and do as people say. You can never keep your head up and breath, let alone hold it up high, if you think that the only acceptable thing to do is for you to keep your head down. I'm at a point in my life where I can't put off deciding who I want to be any longer. I've managed to survive, and kept myself "safe" growing up by not making decisions, by living up to other people's expectations, because I thought then I could do no wrong. But I couldn't be more wrong. Now I realize I don't really know how to connect with others, I don't know where to find the people I want to connect with, because I don't know who I am. I can't even decide if this is who I want to be, and this is how I want to live the rest of my life, because I have no point of reference. I have become the gruel in a melting pot in which people could dump whatever they want in it - no taste, no substance, no consistency. And I can't play victim because I'm an adult now, and I need to learn how to say no. I'm not a little girl any more, and I have choices. If I blame others and resent them, I'm only running further away from being seen and heard. Being "strong" in this sense means taking risks - taking the risk of uncontrollable judgement, but being brave enough to forgive myself and say I'm enough; taking the risk of rejection, but being brave enough to be myself, and believing that the reward would be true connection that will stand the test of time. Being strong is not wearing an armor to shield out vulnerability, but to shed it, and appreciate the naked self who was inside, who is humble, honest, and brave.
I didn't like when someone told me I was strong. Not because I felt that the comments were insincere or unkind, but because I felt that it was a quality I rather not have. I felt that being strong, or becoming strong, was a character developed over difficult circumstances, and it was those circumstances that I resented. I looked around me and I saw ignorance everywhere, and though the logical part of me thought I didn't want to be ignorant, when you're tired and cynical, ignorance started to look pretty darn good. After all, ignorance is bliss, right? The more you know, the more you're aware of, the more power thus responsibilities you have. And when you're always trying to step up and be the responsible one, you burn out, and you resent everyone and everything around you because you feel that no one has cared about what you want.
Then I came to read the book Daring Greatly by Dr. Brene Brown. She talked about the armor we all wear to protect ourselves from vulnerability. She talked about the culture of "not enough," and that we shut ourselves down and keep away from being seen and heard when we feel that we aren't good enough. She talked about how we feel disconnected when we start to believe that we're not worthy of love and connection because we're less than perfect. That hit home. It's a vicious cycle when we believe that we're not good enough, that if we could try just a little harder we'll be worthy We push and push, hoping for others to accept us and care for us, all the while we're afraid if people knew the real us they just wouldn't like us. You go nowhere. And pretty soon, you don't even have a place to stand.
No wonder I feel fatigued all the time. Being "strong" had always meant for me to keep toughing it up, biting the bullet, to ignore the self and do as people say. You can never keep your head up and breath, let alone hold it up high, if you think that the only acceptable thing to do is for you to keep your head down. I'm at a point in my life where I can't put off deciding who I want to be any longer. I've managed to survive, and kept myself "safe" growing up by not making decisions, by living up to other people's expectations, because I thought then I could do no wrong. But I couldn't be more wrong. Now I realize I don't really know how to connect with others, I don't know where to find the people I want to connect with, because I don't know who I am. I can't even decide if this is who I want to be, and this is how I want to live the rest of my life, because I have no point of reference. I have become the gruel in a melting pot in which people could dump whatever they want in it - no taste, no substance, no consistency. And I can't play victim because I'm an adult now, and I need to learn how to say no. I'm not a little girl any more, and I have choices. If I blame others and resent them, I'm only running further away from being seen and heard. Being "strong" in this sense means taking risks - taking the risk of uncontrollable judgement, but being brave enough to forgive myself and say I'm enough; taking the risk of rejection, but being brave enough to be myself, and believing that the reward would be true connection that will stand the test of time. Being strong is not wearing an armor to shield out vulnerability, but to shed it, and appreciate the naked self who was inside, who is humble, honest, and brave.
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| photo courtesy of Syrus F. |
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