Dear world, and a good majority of the people in it: I am done being your doormat. I have had enough. I have been kind and giving and caring. I have been sympathetic and empathetic. I have over-apologized for things that were never my fault to begin with. Sometimes, simply for who I am. For my existence. I have forgiven and forgiven and forgiven. I have accepted being trampled on, smiling and saying "it's OK I understand", and then silently going home and crying for hours, days on end. Sometimes I still cry about things years later, the hurt is so deep. I've let the things you've done make me feel bad about myself. Like I'm the problem. Like I'm best at just being your cushy little doormat. The cushy little doormat right before you step into your beautiful, expensive house - you have to trample me down in order to elevate yourself. For a long time, I thought it was simply my place. You convinced me of that. When I attempted to stand up for myself, you called me selfish or attention seeking, telling me to stop raising a fuss. You called me hot-headed, over-reactive, unreasonable. You convinced me I was the problem, simply for asking you top stop trampling on me. It made me feel worse about myself. Nobody wants to be a hot-headed, selfish, attention seeker. So I became even more of a doormat - to apologize for "unacceptable behavior", for causing you trouble. For years, almost 38 of them now, I have asked permission. I've asked permission for the stupidest things - for things nobody should ever have to ask permission for. I've practically asked permission to exist at times. And no matter what someone's answer was, I acquiesced. I didn't want to cause a stir. I am so empathetic and caring and understanding that I always managed to put myself in someone else's shoes and convince myself they were right. I felt guilty if I didn't. I hated myself if I caused a problem, caused anyone hardship, anyone was upset with me.
But I am done acquiescing. Last night, I got some news that put me over the tipping point. It wasn't tragic or even terrible news - nobody was hurt or ill. It was news about my something at my home, that I literally just moved back into this past weekend after months of renovations, that will cost me a lot of money that I don't have, and inconvenience, all for someone else's benefit. And that was it. I was done. Everything that everyone has done over the years for themselves at the expense of me, every offense, every time someone stepped on me, every time someone upset me so as to not rock the boat, every time someone didn't stand up for me, or disrespected me, or treated me like crap, or convinced me to treat myself like crap, added up and triggered a switch. And yes, I am sure many people have gotten worse news lately. But if you tell me that I will throw something at you and we will cease being friends immediately, so I highly suggest you don't. We all have our own battles, and mine is a long standing one with life and illness, and I ask you not to judge mine as I do not judge yours. I'm done with people judging me and trying to placate me and getting me to acquiesce. Done.
I will no longer apologize for things that are not my fault. I will no longer let you trample on me to boost yourself. I will no longer let you convince me that it's my place in life. You will no longer make me feel bad about who I am, about standing up for myself and the things I deserve. I will not yell and scream and make a huge scene. I will not even try to convince you of my place. I will simply tell you my place. I will tell you what I will do, and what I will not. I will not ask permission for things that I have no business asking permission for, simply because the world has convinced me that everyone else knows best. I'm done believing that bullshit. I've seen through those lies. I won't bulldoze over everyone, I will be respectful when I know that someone does know better, when it is appropriate to ask permission or to collaborate efforts. But I've discovered that those times are much fewer than I'd been led to believe.
Perhaps this will not make me popular. But you know what? I've never been popular. And years of doing what everyone else told me to do, of being convinced that I'm not worth anything, that everyone knows better, made me feel so inferior that I closeted myself away, not even wanting to be around people. Severe social anxiety makes it worse. So not a whole lot will change. And those who do stand by my side, like my loved ones and closest friends, they will be valuable, quality people. They will be positive two-way relationships, not simply people using me to get their way. I will know people based on actions, not pretty words. There is no "let me know if you need anything." That puts the onus on me, still, contacting you. There will be no "Oh we should get together" with them not following up. Those are pretty, empty words that get others off the hook for not making an effort. People will not be too busy for me. Especially not with things like work and chores and tasks. I'm sick of inanimate pieces of life taking precedence over people. Nobody lies on their deathbed wishing they'd spent more time in the office or spent more time cleaning the house or running errands. It is people holding your hand as you take your last breaths. I want only people in my life that get that. I don't care if your reach out is "Well I have the kids at home but you're welcome to come over and sit on the floor and play toddler games with us". I'm fine with that. In fact, I prefer kids and dogs to most adults. Or if you are battling illness and suggest a virtual coffee get together via FaceTime. That works for - I'm probably battling too. And even if I can't do these things, you've offered. And you've offered on terms I can do - not some big group gathering that you know makes me anxious. You've tried. I don't feel like I'm making all of the effort. That means the world. I'm done being the only doer in 90% of my relationships. I'm done giving and caring and doing for others what they won't for me. Pulling all the weight. Being taken for granted. Doing things that cause me massive anxiety and depression so that I can see people because it's the only way they'll get together. Done, done, done.
You see the problem, world and people in it, is that I never was a doormat. I am the pavement underneath. I could see the appeal of having the doormat there - it's pretty and nice and people enjoy it. It softens the blow of people stomping on you. I like being useful, helpful, and giving. But suddenly, the doormat is gone. It's been trampled on too much. Worn through and tossed away. And now, there's pavement. Strong, sturdy pavement. People couldn't have stepped on that doormat for years if it had been hanging there in thin air. It was supported by the concrete all along. Concrete doesn't wear and tear as quickly as a cushy doormat. Nobody wants to stop down hard on the concrete. It doesn't silently clean the dirt off of your shoes as you step up into the beautiful home of your life, where dirt and doormats aren't welcome. You stomp on the concrete, you feel it. And sometimes, when it starts to storm, concrete gets icy. And icy concrete is not a place you want to step. It is particularly unforgiving.
But I am done acquiescing. Last night, I got some news that put me over the tipping point. It wasn't tragic or even terrible news - nobody was hurt or ill. It was news about my something at my home, that I literally just moved back into this past weekend after months of renovations, that will cost me a lot of money that I don't have, and inconvenience, all for someone else's benefit. And that was it. I was done. Everything that everyone has done over the years for themselves at the expense of me, every offense, every time someone stepped on me, every time someone upset me so as to not rock the boat, every time someone didn't stand up for me, or disrespected me, or treated me like crap, or convinced me to treat myself like crap, added up and triggered a switch. And yes, I am sure many people have gotten worse news lately. But if you tell me that I will throw something at you and we will cease being friends immediately, so I highly suggest you don't. We all have our own battles, and mine is a long standing one with life and illness, and I ask you not to judge mine as I do not judge yours. I'm done with people judging me and trying to placate me and getting me to acquiesce. Done.
I will no longer apologize for things that are not my fault. I will no longer let you trample on me to boost yourself. I will no longer let you convince me that it's my place in life. You will no longer make me feel bad about who I am, about standing up for myself and the things I deserve. I will not yell and scream and make a huge scene. I will not even try to convince you of my place. I will simply tell you my place. I will tell you what I will do, and what I will not. I will not ask permission for things that I have no business asking permission for, simply because the world has convinced me that everyone else knows best. I'm done believing that bullshit. I've seen through those lies. I won't bulldoze over everyone, I will be respectful when I know that someone does know better, when it is appropriate to ask permission or to collaborate efforts. But I've discovered that those times are much fewer than I'd been led to believe.
Perhaps this will not make me popular. But you know what? I've never been popular. And years of doing what everyone else told me to do, of being convinced that I'm not worth anything, that everyone knows better, made me feel so inferior that I closeted myself away, not even wanting to be around people. Severe social anxiety makes it worse. So not a whole lot will change. And those who do stand by my side, like my loved ones and closest friends, they will be valuable, quality people. They will be positive two-way relationships, not simply people using me to get their way. I will know people based on actions, not pretty words. There is no "let me know if you need anything." That puts the onus on me, still, contacting you. There will be no "Oh we should get together" with them not following up. Those are pretty, empty words that get others off the hook for not making an effort. People will not be too busy for me. Especially not with things like work and chores and tasks. I'm sick of inanimate pieces of life taking precedence over people. Nobody lies on their deathbed wishing they'd spent more time in the office or spent more time cleaning the house or running errands. It is people holding your hand as you take your last breaths. I want only people in my life that get that. I don't care if your reach out is "Well I have the kids at home but you're welcome to come over and sit on the floor and play toddler games with us". I'm fine with that. In fact, I prefer kids and dogs to most adults. Or if you are battling illness and suggest a virtual coffee get together via FaceTime. That works for - I'm probably battling too. And even if I can't do these things, you've offered. And you've offered on terms I can do - not some big group gathering that you know makes me anxious. You've tried. I don't feel like I'm making all of the effort. That means the world. I'm done being the only doer in 90% of my relationships. I'm done giving and caring and doing for others what they won't for me. Pulling all the weight. Being taken for granted. Doing things that cause me massive anxiety and depression so that I can see people because it's the only way they'll get together. Done, done, done.
You see the problem, world and people in it, is that I never was a doormat. I am the pavement underneath. I could see the appeal of having the doormat there - it's pretty and nice and people enjoy it. It softens the blow of people stomping on you. I like being useful, helpful, and giving. But suddenly, the doormat is gone. It's been trampled on too much. Worn through and tossed away. And now, there's pavement. Strong, sturdy pavement. People couldn't have stepped on that doormat for years if it had been hanging there in thin air. It was supported by the concrete all along. Concrete doesn't wear and tear as quickly as a cushy doormat. Nobody wants to stop down hard on the concrete. It doesn't silently clean the dirt off of your shoes as you step up into the beautiful home of your life, where dirt and doormats aren't welcome. You stomp on the concrete, you feel it. And sometimes, when it starts to storm, concrete gets icy. And icy concrete is not a place you want to step. It is particularly unforgiving.
Good for you Maya. All my love ❤️
ReplyDeleteThank you!
Delete