Over 40 Club, Ladies Only

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Laaaaaaaddiiieeeesssss!! Let me clear my throat <cough, cough>!

This one’s for you!

I mean, if you’re a gent, you’re welcome to stay and continue reading. But this one’s for the ladies. Particularly ladies in their 40’s. Children are not permitted to this discussion. Strong people, glass is half-full people, joyous people, problem-solving people, and people who have never suffered a menopausal symptom are not welcome. Choose another post to read, friends. This one’s not for you.

Menopause. Perimenopause. Premenopause.

I don’t know the difference. I am not a doctor. I only know that I was told I’m in Perimenopause. I have done no research, other than reels on Instagram and TikTok videos. I don’t really want research–I just want to know that someone else out there feels like I do.

Co-Misery is a thing. And we’re about to commiserate!

I’m currently 42 years old. That means that I’ve been suffering an unknown, undetected illness for 2 years. Two whole years! It’s physical, mental, and emotional. I am physical, mental, and emotional. Honestly, I’m living on prayers and caffeine over here.

I’ve been to the general practitioner, my gynecologist, a psychiatrist, and a psychologist. I have gone for x-rays and scans. I’ve gone to specialists for extensive testing for ADHD, anxiety, and depression. I’ve had blood work done. A lot. <I’m honestly surprised my insurance continues to cover the blood work.> I’ve tried meds, meditating, exercising, praying, small groups at church, serving at church, walking, reading, vegging.

SURVEY SAYS: Everything’s fine.

Everything’s fine. EVERYTHING is fine. EVERYTHING. IS. FINE. WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

Everything is, indeed, NOT fine. Not even on the fine side of the spectrum. Not even close enough to give “fine” a side-eye or a high five. No, friends, EVERYTHING is so not fine.

First of all, I don’t sleep. Never had that problem in my life. If I do manage to fall asleep, I’m up in the middle of the night making up stories and listening to the dern devil.

Second of all, my hair is falling out. Like, not shedding the normal amount as we change seasons or between salon appointments. So much that my hairdresser called my ponytail “small.” That stung.

Third of all, I give no effs. And I give no effs about giving no effs. Oh, I made you mad? Sorry. Kinda. Oh, I hurt your feelings? My bad. Oh, I came off rough or didn’t choose my words wisely? Well…

Fourth of all, I have zero energy. I am literally living off caffeine. In any form. Alani, Celsius, Bloom, hot coffee, cold coffee, L-Theanine+Caffeine pills, Coca-Cola. Any form. If there’s a more effective one, PLEASE hit me up!

Fifth of all, I am either freezing or sweating. There is no in-between. There is also no rhyme or reason to the temperature taking over my body. You’re in short-sleeves, and I’m covered in goosebumps with my jacket. You’re using an extra blanket, and I’m wiping the sweat from between my boobs.

Sixth of all, I have 4 pet squirrels all vying for my attention at any given time. I cannot focus on any task. I cannot finish any task. One thing literally leads to another and another, and nothing is done to my normal standards.

I’ll stop at six because I’m starting to affect my own self-esteem. Six. Six things I can bring off the cuff without any thinking or brain power. Two years; six symptoms. Those symptoms were not present before my 40th birthday in January of 2024. I mean, maybe they lay dormant or something…so I guess I can’t definitively say they weren’t present. But, I digress… (see #6)

So, ladies…how we doin’? Let me guess–EVERYTHING’S FREAKIN’ FINE?!

As I sit here drinking my Celsius (after my coffee), rage growing in my gut about the weird squeaking noise my son is continually producing, with a fan in my face as the house sits at 65…I am really wondering if this is what God planned for me. For us. Women. Did Eve make him so royally angry about the doggone serpent and the apple in the Garden that he cursed us with this? I mean, I’ve birthed 3 kids, so I am a believer for the curse of painful childbirth. That, I can confirm, is a thing. But this? THIS?!

So, ladies…what are we doin’ about this?

I’ve asked a lot of people. A lot of them professionals.

I’ve been given birth control–and THAT was a nightmare!! Apparently, progesterone and me are NOT friends. Yikes! I won’t be doing THAT again!

I take Ashawaganda and L-Theanine+Caffeine. Those seem to help, and I’ve been taking them for months now, so I’d assume the placebo effect would’ve worn off by now. If it hasn’t, y’all leave me alone and let me have this one slice of peace.

I’ve had tests done: all my insides are fine and healthy; all my levels are within the normal range. See #3–that’s the ultimate rage bait.

I’ve done therapy. I have so much going on in my life that the therapist literally bugged her dern eyes and said, let me repeat this back to you. I listened and didn’t judge…I said “yep, that sounds accurate.” They sent me to have more intensive stuff done to see if I had ADHD, anxiety, depression, and whatever else. I am so low on the range that I didn’t even ask for meds. The guy that did the test said, “Your mental load is too heavy. You have to offload some of that stuff.” I literally smiled and chuckled. Ok, sir. I’ll get right on that. Fulltime job, five kids, a husband is who is on the high end of the ADHD range…check back in 6 months to see what’s changed.

So, somebody help a girl out. There’s gotta be something out there other than patience and understanding. This’ll be the first post I have made that doesn’t have tips, strategies, or another perspective at the end. Just straight-up, 100%, unfiltered complaining.

But, my momma raised a complainer not a quitter. So, off I go–gotta start another 3 projects only to complete none, gotta get somebody mad without caring, pick my hair out of the drain, and wipe the sweat from my upper lip.

Thanks for listening. Hope it makes you feel normal-er.

Lock the Door

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Our brains cannot be trusted.

I know, I know…that’s a heavy thing to lead with, huh? But think about it. Our brains cannot be trusted.

Our brains like finished stories. Our brains run overtime at weird times, like at midnight. Our brains leave an opening for resentment.

a) Finished stories. Gossip. We love that stuff. The stories people come up with to make something make sense, to explain why something happened, or to sway allegiance. “She must’ve done that because…” or “I guess he did that to…” or “You think he said that to her because she…” All those times you had a few details and made a whole story…that was your brain finishing the story. It needed the ending. It needed a reason, an explanation, answers to questions, more details. You needed it. So, your brain finished it. Usually with the Devil’s help. <side eye> It’s not a happy ending every time, is it, sugar?

b) Our brains run overtime. Usually at the most wonderful times–we’re tired, stressed, angry, frustrated, sad, depressed, anxious, worried, overwhelmed, or nervous. (Mumbles: brains must be resting when we’re happy.) You know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re up in the middle of the night thinking about tomorrow’s presentation, yesterday’s meeting, the random run-in you had at Wal-Mart. You’re lost in thought about your kid starting college, or being away at college, or coming home from college. You’re up late thinking about your husband’s Guys Night, your wife’s late meetings, your ex’s inability to function as a mature adult. You’re up early wondering about the nail in your tire, the guy that might get a promotion over you, the friend who has kids when you haven’t yet. So many things! You’re brain seems to have had a Red Bull without consulting you.

c) Enter resentment, stage left. Resentment sneaks in the backdoor on the heels of anger, pride, feelings of being overwhelmed. You start keeping a scoreboard…mentally keeping score of who does more and who deserves this and why did this good thing happen to him. You start finishing those stories versus speaking truths. And of course you’re doing this at midnight when your brain is in overdrive.

I have been on a journey to better myself. It’s been a long journey. A hard one. But its a journey, not a sprint. One thing I have tried to do is look to The Book for answers and insight. Some of the most influential people in my life have spoken life over me by quoting the Bible. I envy that. Not in an unhealthy way…more of a #goals way. So, I looked to scripture for insight into our brains and this overthinking nonsense.

In a letter to the Corinthians, Paul said that “we do not wage war as the world does. The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world…we have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought and make it obedient to Christ. And we will be ready to punish every act of disobedience, once your obedience is complete.” Corinthians 10:1-6

The world wages war by playing to our biggest fears and most extreme emotions: fear, anger, pride. Unfair tactics that attack us at our weakest points. Our overworked brains are weak. Resentment weasels its way in while our brains are tired. Paul wasn’t telling us to gather up weapons and prepare to fight. He was telling us to use our brain as a weapon–take hold of those negative thoughts, those untruths we used to finish the story, those questions about who got what / did what / went where and why. Take hold of them and twist them to make it obedient to Christ. Now, that does not mean to scold it and tell it to sit in a corner. That means to change the script. Make them more Christlike. Good, peaceful, gentle, kind, faithful, and full of love. Instead of questioning, making things up, or coating things in negativity, lead with positivity, love, empathy. Don’t finish the story until it’s finished.

But WAIT! There’s more! Paul said we can fight it. We can’t do it by creating a stronghold of our own or building a wall around our heart and selves to ensure we don’t get hurt. That’s what we want to do. Seclude ourselves, become uber-independent, have a jaded view of the world. That would be easier…and more passive. Fighting is active. Fighting is something we have to DO. We can fight our untrustworthy brains by resting (as best you can–HELLO, perimenopause!) and renewing our brains daily, rewriting the script, and tending to our side of the street.

Resting and renewing. Unplug. Read. Meditate. Sleep. Whatever is resting to you, do that. Read. Talk with friends. Craft. Learn something new. Whatever renews your mind, do that.

Rewrite the script. Grab that undocumented, unproven thought and twist it to be more loving and empathetic. Switch it to something more peaceful, gentle, and kind. See if it changes the story.

Tending to your side of the street is a nice way of saying MYOB, people. Mind your own business, your own problems, your own insecurities, your own stuff. Mind your own. Pay attention to your own. Like I tell my kindergarten students, if you mind your own business and everyone else minds theirs, we will have less problems in this space.

Less problems, like pesky uninvited guests called resentment. Lock your doors, friends. Highlight the positive, speak life, have positive self-talk. Pay attention to what is praiseworthy, on what’s good in the world, and focus on that.

Mom’s Club

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Speaking to the momma’s out there…it’s time for small-group therapy right now.

I have a need to shed some light on a common issue and to normalize how I’m feeling right now.

Post-partum hormones.

If you know, you know. And just reading that probably made you exhale and think back to those first few weeks you brought your little nugget home from the hospital.

It doesn’t hit you that first day…or even the second…it comes swirling in around week two, when the newness has worn off. When the glamor of having a tiny new baby has lost its luster for family and friends. When the days and nights are confused. When the house is still messy and/or dirty, the laundry is still undone, your hair is on day 8, and the day’s outfit is still pajamas…from two nights ago. That’s when you snap to it and think, “I know what’s happening here.”

Not gonna lie…I started this post and then forgot it. Left it in the depths of my drafts. Like a lot of things, honestly. After having a baby, so many things go on the back burner. So many things.

You think it’d be hard to go back to that mental space. I mean, my baby is almost 5 years old now. You would think that I would’ve moved into a different stage, a new phase. You would think that I’ve probably left that really draining, life-changing, transformative place. It was a long time ago.

I haven’t. I haven’t left that mental and emotional space. I’m creeping out of it…slowly like a sloth.

Looking way back to when my first round of children were small, I don’t think I felt like myself until they turned four or five. I think I lived in a constant fog of schedules and diapers and training and appointments and caring for little people for so many years that I didn’t realize I wasn’t loosening that skin of newborn motherhood but fitting it to me. Tightly.

Now that I’ve had another kid, almost ten years later than my last…and now that he’s almost 5…I feel the same way. Why haven’t those post-partum hormones gone away? Or leveled out?

I look at my older kids and think–how did the time go by so fast? Where was I? What was I doing? I obviously wasn’t soaking up every single second of their little lives and stamping it onto my brain so I’d never forget. What happened?! They walked out of the room with chubby faces and little hands, and they came back in with stubble on their chin, actual cheekbones, and bass in their voice. I look at them–or up at that them–and I don’t even know what to say. How did I miss it?

I was so locked into the raising and training. I missed the change. I missed the shift. It seems like the flip of a card. One day, little; the next day, grown. I mean, they’ll be off to college or whatever in a year! Then they’ll be bringing home fiancés and babies!

Ok, reign it in. It’s fast but not that fast. But those hormones never level out. I don’t think so, anyway. I’m not a doctor or a nurse, nor do I have ANY background in biology (or any science, for that matter). I just don’t feel like they leave. It seems like you get pregnant, have the baby, and the universe bestows a crazy mix of hormones for your body to claim as its new normal. A new baseline. Good luck, the universe says!

That fog doesn’t lift. Those emotions don’t settle. The super emotions don’t tame. Nothing goes back to the way it was before. It’s just the baby, you, and these post-partum hormones. Your hormones grow as the baby grows…because why not?!

The baby gets bigger, the worries get bigger, the hormones get bigger. That makes sense, right?! Totally.

I’m only partly joking. Partly.

Part 1: Those hormones are no joke. I was medicated after my second baby. I probably should have been medicated after this last baby. Those hormones are no joke.

Part 2: They were my new normal. Even after taking medication for a year after my second baby, I still had to figure it out once I got off the medication. The hormones were still there, even though the medicine wasn’t. I had to figure out a balance in my own body and mind.

That fog hasn’t left yet. That unnecessary crying is still there. That worry that causes me to do Jerry Springer-type stuff still exists. AND, it’s gotten bigger as my kids have gotten bigger.

So, maybe we aren’t calling them the right thing. Maybe they aren’t post-partum hormones…maybe they’re mom-mones.

Mom-mones, the chemical messengers made by endocrine glands that travel through the bloodstream to signal organs and tissues to overreact to, overstress about, overemotionalize, and overthink anything connected to offspring. Husbands, friends, and coworkers are a casualty we can’t control.

You’re not alone. There are a lot of us. Grab your membership card. It’s a Moms Club.

The Prodigal Son

Posted on by Abbey Mac

The Prodigal Son. It’s a timeless story. If you don’t know it by name, you’ve heard the storyline. Even if you aren’t the church-going type, you’ve heard the real-life version.

The Prodigal Son. Every family has one…or two.

The parable can be found in Luke 15:11-32 and goes a little something like this… A father has two sons. The younger, impulsive, less responsible of the two asks for his inheritance. His father gives it to him, only for the son to blow it and hit rock bottom. The son is forced to tuck his tail and crawl back to his father with nothing to show for himself and beg for a place to stay and recoup. The father accepts his baby boy back–surprisingly very happily–even at the judgement of the older, more responsible son, who didn’t squander his inheritance. When big brother refuses to celebrate little brother’s return, the father says, “You are always with me, and everything I have is yours. But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.”

Continue reading “The Prodigal Son” →

Out of Character

Posted on by Abbey Mac

You ever “come out the side of your face” or been “taken outta character?”

It’s kind of a conundrum, isn’t it? People push your buttons, and you feel something. Like, a hot feeling up your neck. Sweat. Shaking. Can’t bite your tongue…a need to say something. And then, BOOM! You’re “outta character!”

But are you, really? Or are you just showing your character?

Continue reading “Out of Character” →

Chapter 3, Section 1

Posted on by Abbey Mac

We are living in a chapter of a future textbook.  We are living in a paragraph of an undergrad sociology essay on culture in America.  We are living in a verse of a poem on hate and hurt.  We are living in an episode of a news show, a random sitcom, or a drama series.

We are literally living in a history lesson. Our grandchildren will ask us to tell them about 2020…the riots and protests, the disagreements and leadership, the decisions and repercussions. They will sit in awe as we describe what we have experienced in the last 12 months. We will talk about innocent people losing their lives, groups of citizens coming together to fight a common cause, regular people standing up for what they believe…a year filled will various events and a myriad of emotions.

I don’t want to live in a society where the current mess is normal. I don’t want my children or your children to grow up in a society where the current mess is normal. It should not be normal.

Every single person has their own beliefs, customs, perspectives. Every single person has their own LIFE. Every single person is different. Every single person is uniquely and wonderfully made. Every single life matters.

Continue reading “Chapter 3, Section 1” →

Screensaver

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Whew.

We have had some stuff goin’ on ’round here, haven’t we?!  Lawd have mercy!

A pandemic.  Closing of schools and everything else.  Quarantine.  Unjustified brutality and protests for equal treatment.  Rising case numbers in the pandemic.  Hard conversations.  Personal stuff.  Family stuff.  Work stuff.  Enlightenment.  Shifting of priorities.  New normals.

It’s enough to make you wanna throw yourself down on the bed and exhale a soul-relieving breath, hoping to blow it all away and see clearly. Continue reading “Screensaver” →

The Devil don’t waste bullets.

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Don’t put a purse on the floor.

Don’t put shoes on the table.

Don’t buy your significant other a pair of shoes.

Leave through the same door you entered.

Trouble comes in threes.

The Devil don’t waste bullets.

My grandparents had some serious beliefs.  Rooted in old geetchie heritage.  I took all those ideas as my own.  I put my purse in a chair or my lap.  I put shoes on the floor, or if they’re new, I might leave them in the box and put them on the couch.  I’ve never bought my husband shoes…not directly.  I’ve given him a gift card so HE can buy shoes.  I leave out the same door I came in.  I hold my breath when trouble comes because I know there’s more coming.  And I know the Devil don’t waste bullets. Continue reading “The Devil don’t waste bullets.” →

Diggin' Deep

Posted on by Abbey Mac

I used to have a therapist. A legit one. I shared this, remember? That was right before I hired you.

Anyway, my previous therapist asked me one time, “What would you say are your son’s personal truths?” I reacted with confusion…partly because I had never thought of it and partly because he was only four. Do four-year-olds have personal truths? I think I might have even asked him that question. Don’t laugh. He didn’t. He actually asked a follow-up question–“What are your personal truths?” Again, I reacted with confusion…partly because I had never thought of that either and partly because I was in a dark place at the time. Did I even have any personal truths? I know I didn’t ask THAT question out loud. But it turns out, yes. Yes, four-year-olds have personal truths. Yes, I had personal truths. I have them now. You did. You do. We all do.

What are they?

When I thought about my young son during this session, I decided that his truths would probably center around what he felt were his talents, what he liked, and with whom he spent his time. Then, I thought maybe that would work for me, too. So here’s what I came up with…

I’d like to remind you, now, that this is a judgement-free zone. I’m getting really real with you, so, again, don’t laugh.

After some mental ping-pong of random ideas, I settled on these—I thought my four-year-old son would say: I am a good builder. I am creative. I am a good helper. For myself: I am patient. I am open-minded. I am honest.

Mental break. Insert think bubble. My post- broken-marriage, narcissist- surviver self is on overload right now. Gahhhhhh! Y’all, this is hard! It hurts my heart thinking about where I was 6 years ago. So much growth has occurred, so much change has happened, and so much shifting has pushed me to this place. THIS place. I can look back and be sad. And that’s ok. I’m ok with that sadness because I’m not stuck there anymore. But, maaaan…it makes my eyes water admitting that I struggled to find my sons personal truths. And mine. Six years after that therapy session, I could give you a handful of truths for myself, my husband, AND all four of my kids. Deep ones. High-five worthy.

Ok, snap out of it! Break’s over! Let’s leave the water cooler and get back to the business at hand. (P.S. if y’all didn’t just read that in Snoop Dogg’s voice, we can’t be friends, lol)

I equate Personal Truths to who you are. Like, legitimately who you are. In your core. Buckle up…this may take a couple curves and I don’t wanna throw you. Pay attention. By the way, did I mention that I like the awkwardness of having different views and the uncomfortable conversations that arise from them? No? Oh. Well, you’re in for a treat!

Miss, Mrs., & Ms. Three different identities. I’m a true believer that people don’t change. True believer. Soapbox status. Red-face, teary eyes, Italian hands, hype status. I know some of you are reading this and nearing that status in disagreement. Let me explain my thinking…not in an attempt to convince you to take my beliefs as your own but to possibly begin a discussion.

You are who you are. Way down deep in your core. Your core values are what they are. Honest. Greedy. Compassionate. Selfish. Empathetic. Jealous. Kind. Judgemental. Generous. Bitter. Your inner workings are set. Your natural self.

Don’t get me wrong, your situation can change. And your reaction to situations can change. As you grow, you may react to the same situation differently. You MAY…or you may not. It depends on your core. Who are you in your core? What are your personal truths?

Do you care about others over yourself? Do you base your happiness on what others think or see? Do you think that good always wins? Do you harbor feelings of jealousy or resentment towards others for having certain things? Do you fill your bucket by filling others? Do you like to see others fail? Do you always have to be first or top or best?

There are so many questions you could ask yourself in the pursuit of finding your core. You should ask yourself…but you have to get real. Be honest. I mean, if you’re not honest with yourself when you’re by yourself, what’s the point? But don’t worry—if you’re not, someone will figure you out and point fingers or dole out accusations. Go back and read the last post about accusations because you’ll need to brush up on some strategies for making amends. [winks]

Seriously, though, if you’re going to walk around this planet and interact with people, live your day-to-day life, have an impact on others and the world…why wouldn’t you dig deep and figure out what your personal truths are? Who are YOU in your core?

Let me go back right quick. I stated that people don’t change. And I know you sucked your teeth. But, hear me out. Your core values are set. Hold on—I BELIEVE your core values are set. I BELIEVE you are who you are. Period. Think about it.

You may be generous, open-minded, and passionate. Apply that to life and you would be a giver, a servant, a lover, and you would want to share the benefits of giving and doing for others with everyone.

You may be passionate, greedy, and honest. Apply that to life and you would unapologetically look out for yourself, tell no lies, and probably focus on issues that benefitted you.

You may be empathetic, greedy, and honest. Apply that to life and you would be brutally honest when it benefitted you. You would know when you hurt people with your honesty but you would be unbothered.

You may be empathetic, compassionate, and generous. Apply that to life and you would be kind and giving; you would feel everything (both good and bad); you would share advice and probably burn out from filling everyone’s buckets every day.

Your core is a mix of qualities. Sometimes the combination of qualities can have a posture effect on you and others…sometimes it can end up having negative effects. The situation would determine that. The people involved would determine that.

Life changes. Situations change. Life affects you. Situations affect you. But I don’t believe they change you. I believe you are who you are…and you respond to life and situations based on who you are. Based on your core self.

Being a kindergarten teacher, I happen to be a self-proclaimed expert on giving directions and then modeling my expectations. So, I’ll go first…again [eye roll]. Six years and an extra lifetime of life experiences ago, I said I AM PATIENT, OPEN-MINDED, AND HONEST. These are all still true. Always have been. I think my parents hung their hat on the honesty part at some point of my teenage years because I couldn’t lie when asked a direct question…what did you do this weekend while we were gone—ehh not much…versus did you have a party—hesitant-trying-to-lie-but-can’t yes. [sigh]

While those statements are true and I pride myself on them, I feel like they’re not deep enough. Like, just below surface level. When I dig deep—or better, when I’m pushed to dig deep—I settle on other ideas.

I AM EMPATHETIC. I AM PASSIONATE. I AM A FIXER. I AM A MENTOR. I AM A FIGHTER. I AM A REALIST. I AM HONEST. I AM SELFLESS. I AM A GIVER.

It took me a long time to get to a place where I could confidently and honestly say these things about myself. I had to experience and process years of low self-esteem, countless experiences where I suffered the consequences of poor decisions, loads of hurt, a broken spirit. Being on the other side of that life, I look back with sadness and pride. My story isn’t very different from most of yours. Hurt is hurt. Loss is loss. Tears are tears. And joy is joy. Triumph is triumph. We’re allowed to give ourselves some mental high-fives, y’all!

Now, since the conversation is one-sided in this blogging world, I can’t ask you to have a go and share your ideas. But I’m going to anyway. What are your personal truths? Who are you? Who are you, really? Way down deep. In our core. Dig through the hurt. Push aside what others have accused you of being—true or not. Dust off the self-confidence that’s hiding in there somewhere. Fix those broken wings. Dig deep, y’all. You might be surprised at what’s hiding down there.

Pointing Fingers

Posted on by Abbey Mac

Y’all ever been accused of something? Falsely, I mean. Or falsely in your eyes, anyway.

Take a minute to think about it.

Keep thinking…

Cue Jeopardy music.

Let your cheeks get pink. Let your eyes get wet. Let your hands start to sweat. Let that anger start in your stomach and rise up your neck.

So, you know what I’m talking about? Good, we’re on the same page now.

Being accused of something that you see as false might be one of the most frustrating things on this planet. It might be one of the most emotionally draining things you’ll ever experience. You’ll get all the feelings. No positive ones, mind you…ALL the negative feelings! Anger, sadness, frustration, confusion, denial, more anger, more frustration, more confusion…not in that particular order, but y’all are with me! When someone says something about your behavior or your character or your work ethic or your parenting or your beliefs…WHEW!! Watch out, buddy–you just lit a bottle rocket and it’s gonna explode in your face!

In my relatively short life–haha, I know you know I’m not young–I’ve experienced my share of false accusations. I’ve had people attack my work ethic, my behavior, my parenting, and my character. And let me tell you…I felt all the feelings. All. The. Feelings. It seems as if you go through the processes highlighted by various support groups, like A.A. and N.A. Denial. Support. Etc…Maybe that’s why those groups are so valuable and effective. They teach adults the life skills so they can handle difficult situations.

I am not an expert on the 12 Steps, but I have had friends and family members who have benefited from the program and the relationships made in the program. It’s a way of life, a paradigm shift that is so valuable to people. People. All people. Don’t think I’m making light of this, at all. I’m not. I’m making use of it. I think that we can apply the general outline of the steps to any problem that we face.

Think about it…we’re talking about accusations. You with me? Let’s dig…

First is admitting you have a problem. In this case (one of an accusation), someone else has identified your problem for you. They have done the first step for you. Isn’t that thoughtful? They have highlighted something you did or said or didn’t do or didn’t say as offensive, wrong, too much, or not enough.

Next comes the denial. They threw out the accusation, and it’s your turn to respond. They may have identified your problem in a direct manner or an indirect manner; they may have had emotion tied to it or been totally unemotional. You could feel hurt or angry or embarrassed or confused. Sooooo, you take those emotions and deny. Deny, deny, deny. “I didn’t do that.” “I didn’t mean it that way.” “You misunderstood me.” “That wasn’t me.” There are numerous ways you could respond.

Now, the immature denier–or narcissisti,c if we’re talking about certain people near and dear to the Devil–would stop there. They would stall there at denial. Then, the situation would come back to the accuser so hard and fast…like a catcher trying to make an out on second.

For those of us who have some maturity and compassion for the human race, admitting that there is some truth to what the accuser has claimed would be the next step. You’ve had time to deny the issue…and you’ve had time to process the information. The emotions. You’ve had time to reflect. Empathy kicks in and you start to ask yourself: did I? Could what I did or said have been taken that way?

If you have a strong village, you may reach out for advice or insight. I have a team of people in my village. They’ve had various life experiences and are always open to let me “pick their brains.” There’s a level of trust in a village. You can count on those people–YOUR PEOPLE–to tell you the truth. Even if it’s not exactly what you thought or wanted to hear. Your people will step up and be truthful. Truthful and caring.

Then, we make ammends. We go back to the accuser and discuss it. We admit our faults and explain our thinking. A resolution is made and all is well.

All is well, right?!?!

I mean, on paper it looks and sounds so simple. So black and white. So procedural.

Identify. Deny. Admit. Get support. Make ammends. That seems SO EASY! But it’s SO not! Why?? EMOTIONS. Emotions are why. Emotions make everything amplified. Emotions make everything deeper. Maybe you don’t want to hurt feelings; maybe you hate to see others cry; maybe you’re scared. Scared to lose someone or scared to have that hard conversation. But what happens if you don’t? What happens if you bottle it up and leave it unaddressed? Do you go to that mind cave I mentioned a couple months back? Do you put the issue in a box on your shelf and seal it, only to have it explode open in the future?

I’m a pretty reflective person. I’m a big girl. I don’t have a problem putting on my big girl pants and dealing with stuff. As long as I’m allowed process time, I’m generally open to hearing your take on my wrong-doings. I think, as adults, we sometimes expect certain allowances…certain grace…but we don’t always give it. We expect others to understand that WE see things through a lense of who WE are, but sometimes we don’t expect others to do the same. Now, read that again. THAT, my friends, sounds crazy. How can we expect others to let us process information through our emotions, our experiences, our mess but get defensive or upset when those same others do the same processing?

I mean, I’m speaking for myself and asking for a friend.

Wouldn’t it be easier to just give people grace? Have some empathy? Ok, easier might not be the right word. It IS harder to give people grace. It IS harder to have empathy. It takes lots of thinking and reflecting and trust. It also takes confidence…confidence to be ok if the resolution isn’t what you anticipated. To be ok AND still be able to make amends.

I teach my kindergarteners two different processes for problem-solving: Win-Win Guidelines and I-Messages. I know it sounds elementary, my dear Watson. But sometimes we teach adults through children. Mr. Rogers did it.

The Win-Win Guidelines are a set of argument rules. You start with an I-Message–‘I felt jealous when you…’ ‘I was sad when you…’ ‘I was confused by your…’ All of the messages start with I. That softens the blow of the accusation following it–‘I felt jealous when you flirted with that girl in the belly shirt.’ ‘I was sad when you said you didn’t care about my boring work presentation.’ ‘I was confused by your ignorant comment regarding the impeachment.’ I mean, don’t get fired up–I’m just giving examples! Anyway, when you use an I-Message, the person being attacked (for lack of a better term) isn’t immediately on their defense. They aren’t on edge, waiting to deny and strike back.

Then, the listener (the person with the problem) is supposed to repeat the I-Message. ‘I heard what you said. You said you felt angry when I didn’t back you up in that argument with my mom.’ Repeating the statement gives the accuser some validation. It lets them know that you heard them and there’s value in what they said.

Once the message has been given and repeated, then the people find a solution and make amends. The solution is a win-win, though. Don’t forget that. It’s a WIN-WIN. Not a lose-win, not a win-lose, not a lose-lose. Days of silence is a lose-lose. “Ok-you’re-right” is a win-lose. “I don’t have anything to say” is a lose-win. PEOPLE! A Win-Win is when both parties win. It’s a compromise.

Remember, the accuser has been heard and validated. The accused hasn’t been attacked. So, we’re already on the right track from jump! The discussion that follows should be calmer and less emotional. There it is…less emotional. That’s how stuff gets settled.

A kindergarten approach is elementary, I know. But it’s a novel idea, right?