The Voice within

I can't recall what the conversation started with, but I remember the ending.
"Sophia- that is ridiculous. I swear there is a voice inside of you talking to you and I think it's your mother." My friend Kennedy was pointing out a negative energy, but in an encouraging way. I was on a path. I guess I always am. It's usually the scenic route.

I'm pretty sure I agreed on some level--but the chatter was still there.

It goes like this:
1. "How could a daughter of mine keep her room so messy."
2. "How could a daughter of mine not do her dishes."
3. "If your house was in order, then the rest of your life would follow."
4. "Oh honey, you don't have the time to do that."
5. "You just worry me so much with all the crazy things you do."
6. "I just always feel like you're always testing me."
7. "Why are you so hard on me."
8. "You are just like your father."


Parents out there: the really great thing about all of these sentences is the control you will wield over your child. If they are not a naturally tidy person (and really, who is other than serial killers), there are multiple opportunities each day as an adult for the child to feel like a failure and disowned from the parent, in dishes alone. And even if they do get them done, since you never compliment them on a task well-done, they will never feel successful. The grown child will have to work at least 16 hours a day to keep the work and home in order and if you tell your parent to shut up- YOU are being too hard on them. But hey- you're in control.

4 and 5 are great because it shows you have no empathy for your child, or belief that they can accomplish new things. Sure, if they just barrel out on their own and try a new career, you let them (and even on their birthday or Christmas tell them how proud you are of their courage-always nice to be in control of those compliments) , but you never give them any real support. If it's money for clothes they need because their shitty job in TV news doesn't pay enough or cover clothing- by all means, tell your child what they really need to do is "get rid of some things. You really have so much." That way, you invalidate their feelings of need while also letting them know that in no way are you going to help. It will also make them feel like there is something wrong with THEM when they see their friend's parents there taking their daughters or sons shopping for things they need to get their career off the ground. Best case scenario, make your child feel early on that their needs are unreasonable, so they never ask. ( Sentence 6 and 7 work great for accomplishing that.) For a little icing on the cake, do eventually come visit your adult child in their work place and be sure to fixate on the snotty co-worker who had a great parent who was supportive.

The bad news: your child could end up dying an early death with a needle in their arm.

The good news for me? I managed to escape the bad news, but at age 43, that voice was like a constant siren in my head. I kept trying to get it's approval and rationalize with it. I sought out friendships with people who were like my mom, in hopes they would say I was neat and organized (ha.) Because I just wanted to be OK. The worst was when I would hear her come out of my mouth to others who deserved it no more than the spirited little cross -eyed child (that I was.)

Number 8- is complex. My mom is very "devoted" to my dad. She'll do anything for him, like meals and cleaning (well that's sort of for herself.) But won't do anything with him. He adores that she is a musician and likes to be included in that world, but she would get so frustrated that he couldn't help himself learn how to sing his part with choirs. Sometimes she'd help a little, but it was always short lived. Much of each day was spent with her complaining that he couldn't do projects on his own, or would leave them before they were finished. Now, I'll give her that that is annoying- but it's doesn't make a person a bad or less successful person- yet I grew up believing it did.

In fact my beliefs were as follows:
Mean, judgemental, high IQ, nerdy,  tidy people = strong,  good and most likely to be successful.
Kind, accomadating, average IQ , naturally good looking people but messy =  weak, bad and prone to laziness and don't deserve any breaks in life.

On Saturday March 15th, I got up at 6:00 am to meet my friend Kurt to go running. Got dressed in the outfit I'd laid out and filled my pack. When I realized I was doubled over coughing up phlegm, I texted him that I wasn't going to make it. I thought it was bronchitis. Kurt texted back to be careful with the lungs. But.... the voice within. As I crawled back into bed, I didn't feel sick, I was overwhelmed with guilt of being lazy, that I should be out running, that surely if I was a better person who was more committed to their fitness goals, I would be out there running through it. After all, Brooks Williams runs with Cystic Fibrosis. On that note, I fell back asleep.

When I woke up, I thought, well if you aren't running, you should use this time to get your house in order. Do all the dishes, sort through the mail, fold and put away clothes, not to mention the spare bedroom. Get those extra boxes into the basement, or out to the garage. And what about the pack you promised to mail to Kim? (Sirens.....) I plopped on the couch, coughing and watched 13 episodes of Dexter.

My original plan for that weekend, also included meeting my friend Emily to run a 5k followed by a half marathon in Lawrence (Pi Day run). The voice was creating such guilt, I didn't even text her that I wasn't going to be there. Somehow the voice had convinced me I wasn't sick, I was lazy. Like my dad. But then I remembered what Kennedy had said, and I thought- what would Dad say?

"Aw Jubie (his pet name for Julia, my first name and how they know me.) You have bronchitis? You should go to the doctor."

Some people are just organically kind, nurturing and loving. No matter what they have been lead to believe by those who are closest to them. My Dad is one of those people and as of that day, I just let go of the flaws I've judged in him and myself so harshly my whole life and moved on.  I don't actually see my father as lazy anymore. I think he is just worn out and drained from a life of giving love and not feeling it back in the way he needed.

It doesn't mean I don't love my mom. I do. She's very interesting, and as long as there aren't too many people around to distract her, I remain fairly unscathed in her presence.

The bronchitis lasted for four and a half weeks. I made the right decision to go easy on the running, as it could have become pneumonia. And the voice is quieter-- sometimes I hear it calling, trying to get back in, but I just make sure I chose the pieces that can help, not hurt.

Finally, I don't write this to hurt or bash my mom, although it no doubt would if she checked my blog.   I do it because so many of my friends have commented on my emotional lightness lately, wondering what changed. So there you have it.