Real Not Ideal

Daily writing prompt
What is the legacy you want to leave behind?

In previous posts I’ve talked a little about not needing to be likable; I’ll be the villain in someone’s story at some point. While it sounds nice to say “I’d like my legacy to be that everyone thinks of me as respectful, compassionate, and someone who acts with integrity,” I don’t think it’s realistic.

My legacy should be impactful. When I’m gone, I’d like my loved ones to stop and think before acting – to consider the quality of their actions. I’d like to be one reason others reach for respect, compassion, and integrity in everything they do, but no one is perfect and I don’t expect my legacy to be a constant ideal. If I can cause others to more frequently consider respect, compassion, and integrity I would consider my legacy a success.

For My Health and Self

Daily writing prompt
Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.

There are a lot of ways to become a well-adjusted adult and a lot of ideas of what that might look like. For me, the traits I value that I believe much of society values as well are: respect, responsibility, self-motivation, and compassion. There are others, but my parents helped instill these in me in ways I feel made my life easier, not harder. Specifically, my mother, who consistently taught me about the balance between pushing yourself and resting. In my life, she’s the OG of the “work-life balance”. She respected my autonomy and personal boundaries without fail, and stood up for my freedom to be myself and choose my own life.

I can’t narrow-down what she’s done for me to just one action, but I can give you two major times her positive effect rippled into years of my life. When I was young and still figuring out who I was, and everyone had an opinion on what that should be, and when I was an adult and my condition started to become more extreme and debilitating. Both times, her respect and compassion helped me to grow and build those traits for myself.

When I was younger I was never forced to go to family gatherings, extracurriculars, friend’s houses etc. but was asked to make the choice myself. People may disagree with this, but I think it helped me grow into a better adult because the choices weren’t someone else’s, they were mine. The consequences the arose from those choices were then mine too, and I learned to take responsibility for them. My mother gave me the room I needed to figure out who I was, build confidence in that identity, and to make choices in my life that aligned with that. I knew that if I chose not to visit someone or attend an event I had no one else to blame if I didn’t like the end-result. Not only that, it also meant that every interaction I had was authentic and un-forced. It led to my own self-motivation in the tasks I took up, and a sense of care and integrity towards everything I do. She also taught me about respecting my body too: knowing when I was too ill or exhausted to keep pushing. It’s been a helpful balance that lets me prioritize the things important to me, while knowing when to recuperate for the other important aspects of my life.

In 2015, I was struck with temporary, moderate gastroparesis due to a virus, which meant I was extremely malnourished for an extended period. It also contributed to my pre-existing arrhythmia becoming more severe and chronic, and to the development of a second type of arrhythmia. I was miserable, and bedridden, and at the time we didn’t know what was wrong. Being a cardiac nurse, my mom had seen many patients decondition to the point of requiring even more treatment to get back on their feet. My entire life she’d stressed the need for rest when we were feeling bad; this time she was stressing the need for growth in a safe environment. Every day, we walked while my dad waited at home near the car, in case I passed out or needed driven back home. I truly believe this is why I’m not wheelchair bound today; considering my first nurse in a dysautonomia clinic I was admitted to said, “I didn’t realize you were my patient, you’re the first one I’ve had in years with these issues that isn’t in a wheelchair.” My mom worked hard to show me how to tell for myself when it was important to rest and when it was important to push myself. Every day that I am grateful I can still travel without a wheelchair, eat without a tube, and live without a pace-maker, I have my mother to thank for.

My mother gave me years of her time and compassion; on its own, that’s a hugely positive thing to do for someone. By example, she also taught me to respect others and myself, have compassion, take responsibility for the direction my choices lead me in, and to motivate myself to get work done or to rest when needed. There are so many others in my life who have helped give me those lessons too, but on top of all of those things I have my mother to thank for the amount of physical ability I still have left. She made sure I kept as much of my health as I was able to, and that is the most positive effect I can think to have on someone. Thanks, Mom.