It's Tuesday. Today, I have more of an admission rather than a confession and maybe it's not an admission since I'm stating something obvious: I'm a bull in the china store. I suppose a confession would be that I'm not bothered by breaking things and making noise.
I don't know when it happened but I know when I realized I had been conditioned to be nice and to play to get along, I got mad. I remember the first time my therapist told me just how angry I was. I flat out told that white boy he was wrong. He wasn't. I was in denial. He kept calling me out. He'd tell me I needed to back up, delay and then respond. I learned to I give myself permission to be angry and to respond not react.
I'm a 12-stepper and if you don't know why, you're not going to find out today. Anywho, in those early days, I'd go to meetings and light up newcomers Rambo style because I wanted them to get the truth. I wanted them to stop playing with their lives and learn to live differently before they killed themselves so I gave them the truth- straight.
I'm Quaker now so I've put away the guns, but we love a good protest and debate. I've mellowed over the years. While I'm still candid and I'm not one to blow sunshine up your butt, I'm not as quick or merciless about taking your head off when I think you've said something stupid either. Some of you might beg to differ. If you think I'm rough around the edges now, just be glad you didn't know me then.
I leaned something else in my sessions with that crazy white boy (trust me this is a term of endearment); it wasn't that I wasn't always right (that I knew or I wouldn't have been in therapy now would I) rather it was I didn't have to prove to you I was right. I learned to trust my decisions and to act on my convictions.
I won't play nice or go along to get along especially when there is a wrong. I don't need anyone's permission to be angry or to speak out. So if you prefer tea parties with biscuits you'll want to skip this blog.