Monday Perspectives- 3/22

I have been told “you talk too much” or “too quickly” or “too loudly” many times. I have been chastised for being “dramatic” or “too animated.” I have been jokingly dubbed “too much” at times. This has happened quite often throughout my life, from a very young age, by people I love, and by people whom I care what they think. I was even referred to as “hysterical” by a male supervisor, who underestimated my friendship with the male coworker who informed me.

I have been pondering these negatively worded character traits assigned to me for a while now and I have concluded that they have shaped my view of myself for far too long.

I do enjoy talking. I do talk quickly sometimes. Perhaps I have a lot to say, and feel as though I need to say it all quickly before being shut down. There have been far too many times in my life that I have not felt heard at all, and thus, I compensate when I feel as though even a fraction of what I am saying is heard. It is entirely possible that I talk until I feel as though I cannot be ignored any longer.

I do speak loudly periodically, and I can be dramatic or overly animated. Perhaps I am passionate and empathetic. I want to educate, and facilitate conversation. I feel things deeply and truly and I believe certain topics need emphasis. I am also not willing to back down when I know something is ethically and morally wrong, if it takes me to appear “hysterical” to get someone to listen, so be it. I am not, and never will be sorry about it. Not anymore.

As I watch my son encapsulate many of my personality traits, I want him to feel safe, accepted and championed for them, rather than degraded or put down in any way. He has a lot to say. His imagination is beautiful and innocent and unencumbered. I watch him get frustrated when he feels as though he is not heard, and then I watch him go from angry to sad and it breaks my heart into a million ragged pieces.

His incessant banter about dinosaurs, frogs and sharks - or his hangry mood, his “see I told ya” attitude and his “Mommy did you knows?” can be exhausting, I will admit. But, it is my job to foster all of this curiosity and zeal. It is my job to teach him that not everyone will listen, not everyone will understand, not everyone will care. It is also my job to teach him to never change himself for all of those everyones.

Isn’t it amazing how much influence certain adjectives and phrases can have? Semantics, man. I have questioned myself an embarrassing number of times. I have wondered whether I should stop talking, if I am talking too loudly, or if I have offended someone by speaking up for my truth, my beliefs, or for having an opinion that is different from the person whom I am speaking. Or, gasp, for having an opinion at all. These aren’t the typical societal reminders to myself to be polite either, like, “I should speak more quietly as I am in a restaurant” or “I am speaking out of turn about a topic that bears little consequence to me, or that I do not know enough about.” No, those aren’t questions I even have to ask myself. Unfortunately, I question myself all the time when I speak, because since I started talking, I have been told it has been too much.

In order to protect my son’s sense of compassion, empathy, exuberance, passion, humor and so much more, I need to start practicing what I preach. I need to stop allowing those everyones, the very people who have put a negative spin on my quiddity, to change me. I am getting better and strive to continue. No one is perfect, and although I am damn close… neither am I.

Talk on, friends. That is my Monday Perspective.

Justin chose a super fitting song by Sturgill Simpson, today. All Around You Enjoy!