Guilt

A coach I follow put up a wonderful post a while back about having some time away from her beautiful young girls – much needed downtime. Like so many in this world this past 18 months has been rough on her & her youngest arrived somewhat early. At the end of the post she said “don’t bash this post. You do you & I’ll do me I’m having fun with my besties END OF”.

You do you.  I’ll do me.

Got me thinking.

It reminded me when my son was around 2 years old & I went on a girls weekend away, which happened to coincide with my birthday.  I really don’t know how it all came about but I went along with my sister out law (my brother & his girlfriend have never tied the knot). It was a weekend full of fun, never in a million years would I ever have considered a drag queen show but I’m so glad I did. Never have I laughed so hard, the evening was full of fun, tears of laughter & some very dodgy dancing.

In the day we hit the theme park although I stayed off the roller-coaster, a past experience left me very wary of them. We took tram rides, lunched, got soaked & laughed some more.

Basically I started to lighten up. It was glaringly obvious I was the total serious one who didn’t seem to know how to let go, too afraid to let go?  I don’t know.

There was so much guilt rattling around inside me prior to going I almost pulled out but I also knew I needed to give myself some down time. I needed to find me, but the guilt of spending time away from my little man was astronomical.  When we got back to our bed & breakfast I lay in bed with crazy thoughts running round my head about all the fun I’d just had mixed with “what will they think of you for doing this” also going like the clappers in my head.

I remember the words my hubby said when I told him I’d been invited “if that’s what you want to do” but the look that came with it & the tone of voice was a different story. I knew he didn’t want me going off. But I did it anyway. The consequences of my choice were total guilt.

The new business my hubby had started with my Dad was only 2 years old, he’d been working weekends so when I announced I’d been invited & I wanted to go & with the response I got I had a massive internal battle going on between ego & higher self/mind (whatever name you give it). How unsupportive I was, how selfish I was etc etc the list goes on & on.

But I went anyway.

I got the quiet treatment when I got back.

The insecure me went back into people pleasing mode to “make things better” something I’ve always done & something that has fuelled the anxiety I’ve been plagued with all my life. I’ve people pleased so much it has made me miserable & when I needed down time I was ashamed, guilt ridden & all manner of other things.

But I went anyway.

Then I spent the next 2 months beating myself up over it all. I felt guilty that I hadn’t gone all in with the girls, I felt I held back. What was a Mum doing going to drag queen show for crying out loud? Did they think that? Probably not, I don’t know but I thought that was what they thought.

I look back at the photos & in a couple you could see I had completely let go & had “found” something inside me that had been buried for a long time. In others you could see I was holding myself back from something but I didn’t know what. I still do it now but I don’t know why, it’s almost like it’s become my default setting. Stop having fun, get fricking serious.

Life is serious.

Or is it?

As I’ve moved through life I see things a little differently. My son is now 20. As a result of that trip away I’ve turned down many other invitations. To the extent I stopped being asked.

That hurt.

The people pleaser in me couldn’t deal with possible “conflict” so I put the serious hat on, beat myself up, wished I was actually there with them, got depressed about the whole thing & then guilty I’d let them & ultimately myself down.

As a result of my thinking I made choices based on what I thought others would expect of me. Those invisible expectations suck the fun out of life. Those unwritten expectations where you get certain looks from others, body language changes, tone of voice differs slightly. It’s oh so subtle but it’s there.

I’ve learned the hard way to create space for myself. Not doing something has ultimately led to anger. Anger I feel the need to keep others happy. It’s not on me to make others happy. I need to make myself happy. My happiness is my responsibility. Being happy lets the guilt evaporate because it leads to me being a different human, a human I much prefer to be.

What kind of human are you?