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.

“Likable”

I saw a portion of a speech by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie (3:45) in which she mentions not worrying about likability, and I was inspired. I’ve found this to be more true than ever in my professional life as well as my personal life – especially as a woman. “Likeable” is a word that we can use to describe so many kinds of people.

“Likeable” is a word that can be used to describe a manager who uses their authority to prey on a subordinate they view as attractive, to get what they want from that person with little threat of recourse, because they hold the power and others’ opinions of their likability. “Likable” is a mask used to make someone seem kind and friendly, when behind their mask they work to manipulate the situation, to stamp out anyone and anything that may paint them in a bad light or surpass them. “Likable” is a term to describe a pedophile, who is so beloved and trusted by friends, family, and neighbors that ever-cautious, diligent, protective parents will allow their most precious people – their children – close to that person. Meanwhile, that person spreads a stain across their child’s life, hidden behind their “likable” nature.

Likeable can be many things; used to describe deeply cruel and unethical people just as much as it can be used to describe kind and ethical people. “Likeable” is the teacher who buys hygiene products, food and clothes for students in need. “Likeable” can be the manager who takes an interest in each team member’s hobbies and personal goals. “Likeable” can be used to describe a lawyer who takes a case at a discount or pro-bono to help protect those who have been harmed by other, less-kind, “likable” individuals.

Some individuals are “likable” because they give all of themselves, without boundaries or limitations, to everyone who needs them-until they whither away to nothing inside and out. “Likeable” can be a person who says yes to everyone; never making anyone feel unwanted, unnoticed, or “too much”, but when asked to choose a side to stand up for others they will say “Not me. I’m staying out of it.”

I don’t want to be “likable”. I want to be the person that good and ethical people come to for advice because they know I am also good and ethical. I want to be hard working. I want to stand up for what is right; to not be afraid to go to battle to protect others or to prevent others from experiencing harms which were done to me. I do not want to be “likable”, I want to be the person bad people hate. I want unethical people to view me as the villain in their lives. I want those who bully, and manipulate others in order to meet their goals, to dislike that I will hold them accountable for their actions.

“Likeable” is a descriptive word for someone’s opinion of you gleaned from how much they can gain or lose based on your existence. It is not a descriptive word for moral code, or how trustworthy someone is. It is a mask that hides cruel and spiteful humans who require likability in order to avoid accountability. If I am likable to someone, just as equally I should be unlikable to someone else. If I base my worth and success on whether I am likable, I may lose the substance of character that makes me strong, ethical, compassionate, and dependable. I don’t want to be “likable”. I want to be respected.

Compliment, Not Creepy

Daily writing prompt
Describe a random encounter with a stranger that stuck out positively to you.

The internet is flooded with stories of men who seem like they’re trying to compliment a woman, but end up scaring her instead. It can be frightening to be approached by someone who seems kind at first, but then won’t leave you alone to go about your day. I’ve been on that end of things: herded by a group of men into a corner, to (thankfully) have a key to a building they didn’t expect me to have and get away. That interaction started with a simple compliment from one of them.

You can imagine, after that experience, compliments from men on the street might provoke more caution. I was on my way to class from a parking lot, and a young man approached me who wouldn’t stop staring. Bracing myself, I waited for him to get within comment distance, and he said “Wow, you’re beautiful!” I said thank you and waited for him to stop and expect me to stay and chat. I was pleasantly surprised when he said “I hope you have a great day!” and walked on his way.

It was the first time in my entire life that a random guy had said something kind, and didn’t expect anything from me in return. Where I was treated like a human being by someone who didn’t know me, and not a commodity to be gained. He wanted to say something considerate, without passing on his information or asking for mine, and go about his day. It wasn’t the compliment, it was the way he went about it that was important to me. Feeling like a person and not a conquest is a much better feeling than just feeling beautiful; I’m glad he passed my way that day.

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.