In which I am difficult

There is an often used self-awareness exercise which consists in participants first articulating how they were seen during their childhood, and then reflecting on what strengths this made them cultivate. As an example, you might say: I was the quiet one, and so I developed excellent listening skills.

I participated in this exercise today.

The thing about self-awareness is that we are all work in progress, and what we tell ourselves matters. In other words, self-awareness by definition is a target in motion. The moment we accept that we are X, we are no longer just X: we are also people who are telling themselves that we are X, and we then react to that, becoming X+1. Apologies if this is getting too meta — I will try to be more concrete.

When I was a child, I was the “difficult” one. I was loud and energetic, had big emotions and firm opinions, and rarely sat still. A substantial part of my family has the collective memory of me having dyed my hair green at some point, and many recount this as evidence that I, indeed, was difficult. The kicker is that I never actually dyed my hair green, which I take as an indication that folks found me difficult for reasons they themselves couldn’t justify and so they subconsciously made up something I supposed had “done.” In reality, it was nothing I did or failed to do (after all, I got excellent grades, didn’t get pregnant, and was painfully straight-laced as a teen). It was because of who I was, as a person.

So, what did I learn from this? I learned to eat my feelings. Or more accurately, I learned to not-eat my feelings (read: I developed anorexia). I learned to channel my energy into acceptable activities (e.g. doing the dishes, keeping my home clean). I learned to articulate opinions as analysis, never feelings. I also learned that I was inherently “wrong,” whatever I did.

And then, with therapy, love, and lots of reflection, I learned to undo all of that.

Over time, I learned that my big emotions are a valuable and accurate compass for my life. I learned that having strong opinions gives me something to push off against, a clear way to learn about my underlying assumptions and prejudices. I learned that my energy is a superpower I can tap into for growth. Incidentally, as I moved continents and countries, I also learned that what is seen as emotional and opinionated in one country is perceived as downright stoic in another.

I am deeply grateful for these lessons which, while difficult in all the true senses of that word, make me who I am: work in progress.