Month: September 2012

Inspiration

Making a choice to put myself last!

Reba Nietert

Not that I believe in horoscopes. I just happened to be perusing the yahoo page when I came across mine. Gemini. The ad said, “The role that money plays in your life is going through a transition, and it is beginning to seem like there are a few things in the world that are more important than account balances and shiny new things. Material goods are losing their luster and your eye will be drawn to humbler objects. Other people in your life might be confused by your new focus. This change in your attitude could cause a wrinkle in your social life for a little while, but only until everyone adjusts.” I thought to myself, there has been a change. It was my conscious thought to change recently. A friend reminded me that my actions although crucial in point, were without the best of intensions. I acquiesced and here we are. Modified and humbled by the woman who epitomizes grace and love. Thank you, Mary. Sometimes my actions need to be called into check, because people ruffle my feathers. I cannot for the life of me understand why it doesn’t happen that way for everyone, but that’s my burden.

Last week according to my sister I was in my own little private pity party. It’s something which I do from time to time and usually when something seems a tad unjust. However, given the fact that she lied about her concern fueled a fire I haven’t had in quite some time. Being the extra-introspection guru that I am; I quickly began a dialog with my inner conscious. Was it me? Did I do something again that wasn’t justified? Was I thinking only of myself again? (Admittedly something else I do as well from time to time.) I beat myself about it for about a day and a half when it hit me after receiving the following email from another of my most eloquent of confidants.

Leanna wrote: “You are a deeply introspective soul. Probably the most thought-provocative person I know. In every human interaction, you come away with a deep lake of introspection and probably most everyone else walks away with a puddle. You are rare, Rebecca… and wonderful. Society needs people like you to help keep us from degrading into a culture like “Lord Of The Flies”. Tell yourself often that “this conversation will be a puddle to the other person” … but yours will be something complex and thoughtful. You see human interactions much like a symphony composed by Mozart and thank you, God, for you. I need your introspections to know how others think, and feel, and regard others. But, never forget… most people really don’t care about the subtleties; they just want the “Like” button tapped.”

I thought all weekend about what she said because she gets me. She really truly gets me. I began to read the words, “Don’t define yourself by your family’s opinions.” I know this to be my truth and so I decided to make a list of all the things I’ve done, without hesitation or question or thought to show my family I love them. So from the weddings I went to, and the Christening, and the birthday parties for a father who never acknowledged me, to throwing a surprise 40th that was 1,200 miles away to trips to see children, and sick relatives, and the list goes on and on and on. Then it hit me. In the times when I was either on the phone with them or at their doorstep were the worst or most celebrated moments in their lives. I was there. My actions are pure. My sentiments revealed, and my time was given freely without the benefit of my whole immediate family because of costs. If I needed to go, I showed up.

I looked back on the last 15 years of my life. I’ve been married, had two kids (of who know very little of the extended family). Both of my kids were christened. My son was in critical condition at age 5. I was devastated when I had to have my hysterectomy because I wanted more children, and then I got gravely ill about a year ago. None of which did I get one phone call, or did anyone show up. It hit me. It’s not me. I have engaged, supported, encouraged and dreamt of a union a whole lot stronger than my siblings and I have. What need to accept is that this fantasy of mine is mine and mine alone? They just want to hit the “like” button. They don’t want to create puddles. Okay. Got it.

I think for me and all the waters of my soul, what I have to come to terms with is the unconditional love that I have for my siblings regardless of their actions. Is that being a doormat for their actions or can I freely and wholly accept that they will be someone I speak with or potentially see every decade until I am dead? We won’t really have any more than that. I’ve accepted reluctantly. It’s never what I wanted.

To the gal pals who keep me sure footed in the reality that I am no better or worse than any other girl on this planet thank you. For those who share my daily life, create joy, lift me up, say silly things and have cocktails; you are my support, my life and my love. To those who let me know I’m being self-centered, and focused on the wrong things thank you too, because without you my pity party (unjust or not) would probably continue. I need you too.

Today, I’m going to let all this should I or shouldn’t I feel about what did or didn’t happen affect me. Today my goal is to seek out a better more amiable attitude and force a perspective change to include those who might need me to make their day a little more kooky or crazy or fun. It’s my turn to lift, to elevate, to be there, and to listen. Thank God I get that chance.

Inspiration

Let it Go Even When It Hurts!

Reba Nietert

Letting go is not an easy thing to do. For most of us, it’s that harsh reality that if we did we would no longer have that issue clouding our lives. A swift cut of the threads that bind us and we no longer have any expectations. What about when that cord is cut and the relationship is gone forever? What then?

I’ve learned in my lifetime that relationships although steadfast at times, rarely continue on that path. They falter, people get busy, and time passes and if there’s any distance whatsoever, a giant gap begins to creep in.  Before long, everyone is sore with each other.

I’ve said in another blog that I think it’s because when people are always together there are little things that offend them that they don’t really talk about because there’s generally better about the relationship than the bad. BUT when you move away, the bad is all they remember. The good isn’t something that sticks with people and they begin to feel that you’re just not worth the trouble anymore. Call it hurting from the abandonment they feel, or whatever. Try leaving and you will see what I mean.

Recently, a very violent and troubling hurricane ripped my town apart.  From the moment in began to come into town, my in-law family was on the phone telling me to evacuate. Hell, even a woman I haven’t seen in a decade was telling me to get out of there.  I decided to stay and posted my apprehension on my Facebook page.  Days passed and my power was out so I couldn’t post anything.  What I didn’t get to post was concern.  Then after the generator breaking and other issues with trying to stay bubbled up, I decided to hit the road through the rain and head to Dallas. All of which I did post on my social page.  I didn’t write on the page for a few more days and when I got back home after the holiday I posted that I had indeed made it back safely.

Maybe it’s because I have a laundry list of offenses, but I noticed that my siblings hadn’t called, or posted, or even acknowledged any concern for me. So while I was updating on Facebook I went to their pages. They hadn’t been on their pages.  My brother had and he sure posted often, but didn’t show any concern for me.  No comments on my posts. Nothing.  So, I thought at first, Wow.  Maybe they’re watching my FB Page and keeping up with it there?  My sister had not been on though.

I go out to lunch and I begin to talk with my gal pal about it and she tells me that they could have at least acknowledged it. She said that if they don’t even do that then I’m not on their minds at all. Out of sight, out of mind. She said that they’re not really trying to hurt me, it’s just that they’re busy enjoying their own lives. They don’t think to call. It’s not about me.

I mulled that over in my head the rest of the evening. I don’t know why that hurt me, and I needed to understand why that hurt me; and how I was going to compartmentalize that so that aforementioned laundry list wouldn’t get any bigger.

I thought long and hard about why the absence of their affection meant something this time. After all, I see my sisters and my brother laugh between them, share things and generally exclude me all the time.  I see my youngest sister who had the gift of my father her whole life post about her “sister” and not her “sisters.” It doesn’t bother me that I sent a birthday and Christmas card every year of her life and my father didn’t send my kids that many.  It doesn’t bother me that I stood in a funeral procession line after his death only to realize that 150 of his “closest friends” didn’t even know I existed.  It doesn’t bother me that I have visited a dozen times only to have them visit once.  All that is just part of living, right? It shouldn’t bother me.  So I tell myself.

Two years went by and I hadn’t called my brother. I didn’t hear from him in that two years. So the conclusion if you will, is that unless I make the calls, cultivate, organize and plan the meetings they won’t happen.  But that didn’t bother me…

I planned surprise birthday parties, I went to a wedding where the best man was my ex-boyfriend and the man who slapped me was one of her closest friends. I went to my brother’s wedding, and to the christening of his son.  For the proudest and most celebrated moments in their lives I was there.  I made it happen. Alone or not I was there.  It meant something to me to be there because I showed them that I love them. Regardless of all the past, the love that I had surpassed it all.

Last year when I went to my father funeral. I suppose that’s the deal breaker. That’s the notch in the list I cannot overcome.  How do that many people not know about me? Not one photo of me in his house.  He never spoke of me. Nobody knew about me.  It wasn’t the past any longer. This was my present. This was a huge wake up call to me.

They don’t even know my name. My brother’s children have no idea who I am. My sister’s kids act like they’re scared to death to talk to me.  It’s like somehow I have been labeled. I cannot for the life of me figure it out either? Is it truly about my posts on a Facebook page as my mother says? What is it? I don’t know, but all I feel is the sting of the rejection that comes from the emotional turmoil of it all.

Many tell me it shouldn’t bother me. This is my family! I ask why not? Why shouldn’t it hurt that they don’t care enough to reciprocate? I have spent my whole life waiting to matter to them.  I’ve shown constant love, commitment, action and general support. I guess what I realize is when it all comes down to it, I am just not a part of their priorities. Honestly it’s so sad to say because it’s pretty pathetic that I care so much, but it does hurt.

When I was young, and my mother would take me out of my bed and beat me I used to dream about my father rescuing me.  When my mother broke my jaw and cracked a bone in my arm, I used to dream about a family that didn’t do those kinds of things. I guess that the vision I have in my head is certainly a whole lot different than the one I see now.  I guess that’s perception. It’s like every so often I get a clue and I realize, “Rebecca, you’re just not important enough for them to think about you.” And I have to accept that. Feeling the discontent…

Inspiration

I Hate the word, “Diet!”

Reba Nietert

Diet to me is the ugliest word that came into the English language.  I watch as women who have no concept of what they’re doing to their bodies restrict themselves as to what they believe they should and should not eat. They haven’t gone to the doctor and God help them if they did because those indexes that doctors use are unrealistic. Women have doctors, and specialists and TV and Movie Stars telling them what is and what isn’t good to eat.  It’s all crazy and the word diet implies that you should be thin. Sickly thin. Size 6 or less is the only acceptable because designers don’t even make clothes for women over that size.

Well I am here to tell you, that size 6 is not a picnic.  It’s a sick twisted conglomerate monopolizing business that’s sole goal is to keep you guessing all so they can make a buck and I hate it.  It’s the largest industry of sellable books and products in today’s economy.  If that doesn’t scare you I don’t know what will. That very subtle word, diet, is the catalyst for the pharmaceutical industry, for the retail industry, for the cosmetics and most of the necessities for women. It drives our economy so you had better buy into the word because those fat cats on Hollywood Boulevard, the media and the designers in New York are going to make absolutely certain that you will not have confidence without that word in your vocabulary!

Here’s what I suggest. You don’t have to particularly listen to me, but I do eat well. I have never had a weight problem and for the most part I have been healthy most of my life.  I have a thin shape and I don’t think I look too ancient but that is my opinion. You may have your own. So what I do is document in a program application called My Fitness Pal. You can download the app for yourself at www.myfitnesspal.com. Works on PC’s too.

In this program you put everything you eat. Don’t lie!  And if you have enough courage to fully understand the limits, expectations and goals you can print how many carbs or how many sugars you have in one day, week, month or year.  You can give that to your doc and show them that what you’re saying is the truth.  Then you and your doctor can decide if diet is right for you OR if you just need a lifestyle change.  (No jokes intended).

Be well, take care.

Misfit Out! ~~~