Raspberry Iced M

One of the strange (but comical) things about growing into myself has been realizing how many things I used to believe – with absolute confidence – that turned out to be completely wrong.

Not a little bit wrong. Not only technically incorrect. Just wildly, enthusiastically erroneous. See below.

1. I used to think that if I explained myself clearly enough, my point would be well taken. If I could just provide enough context, enough examples, enough emotional PowerPoint slides, people would go, “Oh! That makes sense now!” As it turns out, people don’t change their opinions just because I can deliver a compelling TED Talk. As dead set as I used to be in my own views, I should’ve understood this. I didn’t.
2. I thought closure came from getting the last word. Old Me believed that a polished final argument would close a case. But life isn’t a courtroom drama. It doesn’t come with mic drops or closed files. Now it’s just me, learning the reality that closure actually comes from something a lot less satisfying – silence.
3. I assumed that being emotionally intense made me “deep.” I thought that feeling everything at full volume meant I was profound. But really it just made me exhausted. And occasionally dramatic. My strength for the last few months has been brushing things off with the following internal dialogue: “That has more to do with them than me.”
4. I viewed all exciting things as good ideas. The not-so-reliable decision-making process of (1) Feel something intensely; (2) Immediately act on it; and (3) Deal with consequences later – well, it’s been more costly than beneficial. I’m not mad at myself for making those decisions anymore, but I have learned from them. Sometimes that sense of excitement was just adrenaline wearing a disguise. Excitement isn’t always wisdom.
5. I perceived that other people were “the problem” in my life. This one took an embarrassingly long time to figure out. When the same problems kept appearing in different places – jobs, friendships, relationships – it definitely wasn’t the universe conspiring against me. The common denominator was me.
6. I trusted that people who really loved me could/would stomach my chaos. Unconditional tolerance. Like, “Her choices are questionable, but she’s interesting!” As it turns out, most people just want stability. Weird, right?
7. The motive for self reinvention was the disappearance of my past. New house. New job. New dog. New clothes. New anti-depressant (cough). Surely that would solve everything…except there was one small logistical issue. I came with me.
8. Stability sounded boring, and there was a time when routine felt like stagnation and complacency. The dullness of predictability wasn’t my vibe. But now that my life is calmer, the shocker is that peace is extremely underrated. Nowadays, if “boring” is the worst way someone can describe me, it’s a win.
9. I figured that apologies fixed everything. In fairness, apologies fix A LOT for me. So I assumed other people felt the same way. I thought that if I said “I’m sorry” sincerely enough, relationships would reset. I know now that’s not the case. Apologies are important, but trust isn’t rebuilt with words.
10. I surmised that one day I would snap my fingers and magically become a fully formed adult. And then 38 years went by and I found myself thinking, “What in the world am I doing?!” The moment I wake up and have my life together hasn’t happened yet, and at this point, I think it’s a myth. Perfect judgment, complete emotional regulation, flawless decision-making…regrettably, it’s all impossible. The best I can hope for is baby steps of effort and lots of learning based on the mistakes I have already made and the ones I’ll make in the future, and in the meantime, occasionally Googling things I should probably already know.

If there is one thing I have learned it’s that growth is basically the process of realizing that Past Me was wrong about pretty much everything. Past Me wasn’t stupid, but Past Me didn’t have the experience that Current Me does. And if everything goes well, Future Me will probably look back at this list and laugh, too.

That’s both humbling and strangely comforting.