Happy happy New Year to all. I hope this year brings good news, productive challenges and positive growth to us all.
I’ve been thinking a lot the past few days about the changes a year can bring, good and bad, monumental and small, expected and un.
While sifting through the aforementioned instances throughout my life, I realized, my whole life I have been waiting for someone to rescue me. When I was little I would wait for my mother to save me from the monster in my closet or the boggy man under the bed but she wasn’t able too being busy trying to evade her own demons. That’s when I established my imaginary standing army of tiny infantry men permanently stationed around every door and window in my room.
Latter I expected one day my Dad would storm into our apartment and deliver me from a more tangible threat I called my step father, but my Dad was far away and again had his own demons to battle. And so I started to day dream about a teacher or a long lost relieve swooping in to defend me from the bullies and insensitive authority figures that seemed to inhabit all areas of my world at the time. When ever I approached a likely candidate however they without exception were uninterested in the job I was offering them. (In fairness the benefits were mostly un-redeemable on this plane of existence.)
And so as I grew up I learned not to ask people for help or tell people too much, both had dangerous associations. For if you asked a person for help they would want something in return and if you told a person how you felt or what you thought they could use it against you. Out of necessity I learned lots of evasion techniques and as I grew up I developed a reputation for being sarcastic and a bit crusty though dependable and honorable. It was good, I was safe, though alone and often lonely especially in a crowd. Secretly I longed for my hero to come along. That one soul Ms. Austin’s novels promise to every introvert, who sees past our defenses to our extremely vulnerable core and loves us for it, is willing to battle through every obstacle we throw in there way and cherishes our hard won trust when it is finally granted.
What I didn’t realize at the time was once the grand gesture has been made and the princess is safely ensconced in his castle the hero can start to feel unfulfilled and restless.
So what did I do when I discovered my champion had moved on to other damsels? I turned to all of you, the world I had up to that point been carefully hiding from, convinced that the righteousness of my cause would draw support from like minded strangers world wide thus rescuing me from the tower dungeon I had built myself. (after all Facebook, the local news and YouTube are littered with those kind of successes stories. Why shouldn’t it happen for me?)
But my grand foray fell flat and I sheepishly admit I despaired. Until yesterday morning when the enormity of my own stupidity became uncomfortably clear. The lesson the universe had been laboring to teach me since I have been old enough to form a memory.
Be your own hero Laura.