I'm sure you’re aware of the difference between liking someone and loving them. But would you indulge me for a minute?
Call to mind a friend or colleague. Someone you genuinely like who perhaps is reliable, trustworthy…Now think about someone you love. A family member or close confidante.
Can you feel the difference?
Yes!
Unfortunately, sometimes the lines between love and like get blurred, especially with members of our family.
Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.
When I was in my early 20s, I moved across the country to live near my sister. Growing up, our relationship was complicated. Sometimes we got along wonderfully, other times, not so much.
Today is my grandson’s birthday. It also happens to be the day my sister was born. (She died in 2010.)
Two years ago, when my grandson arrived looking like my sister and me (blond hair and blue eyes), it felt like a circle had been completed. I wrote about that experience and you can read it here.
As I contemplate the miracle of this day, I find my mind ruminating on the idea of repeating patterns and do-overs. The way life keeps circling people, experiences, and things around to us again and again much like the changing of the seasons.
I used to think that if I moved somewhere else, everything in my life would be better.
Have you fallen for that, too?
I did for decades, spending, on average, four years in any one location.
It wasn’t until I had a child that I even considered changing. One of my close friends said, “you can’t keep moving, it’s bad for the baby.”
Initially, I ignored her, rationalizing my actions by the fact that infants cling to primary support, not place. Her words, however, rang in my ears year in and year out, until I finally stopped running.
Because- 100% transparency- that’s what I was doing. Running away from me.
You see, I’d convinced myself that each new place was the answer to my unhappiness. It wasn’t that the dissatisfaction lay inside of me, absolutely not! It was the pollution, the traffic, the neighbors, the lack of opportunities…
The other day, I was talking to one of my daughters who was sharing her desire to embrace the messiness of life.
Since that chat, I’ve found myself thinking about this idea because, let’s face it, life is messy!
Yet we so often put expectations on ourselves to be pristine, perfect, unruffled.
Can you relate?
Do you find yourself compulsively cleaning before a friend comes over? Or self-conscious about the way you’re eating? Wanting to look neat and delicate.
Perhaps it’s time for a reframe.
I have a client who, according to her, has the ideal life. She has her own business, doing something she loves. She has help with her child, and a supportive husband who financially bears the load of their life, and emotionally encourages her to pursue her passion.
When I talk with her, I’m reminded of myself and a similar internal struggle I had for years! That persistent feeling that success alluded me.
Sound familiar?
What is it about failing that feels so hard?
Is it perfectionist syndrome?
Has our society become so risk averse we’re all afraid of looking stupid? Inadequate?
Because this fear of failure, is pervasive!
Students unwilling to raise their hands lest they appear ignorant.
Employees afraid to ask for help, concerned they’ll look incompetent.
When I find myself stymied by the fear of failure, I always go worst case scenario.
