Today I realized exactly how much time I’ve spent trying to guess the thoughts of others. How much time I spend not doing certain things because I want to make sure that I am not imposing myself on others.
Not imposing yourself on others is a good thing, but not when it gets to the point that you erase yourself because you think that’s what others want.
1. Most people don’t want you to be erased
2. Even if they do, so what?
Women of color are not mind readers, although we are taught to do so for our own safty and often times our own health.
Do you know how stressful and time consuming it is to read other people’s minds and adjust your actions accordingly?
Enough.
I’m done.
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April 16th, 2009 at 6:26 pm #
I have an icon!!!!!!
April 16th, 2009 at 11:19 pm #
fuck yeah. go bfp!
April 17th, 2009 at 4:54 am #
Do you know how stressful and time consuming it is to read other people’s minds and adjust your actions accordingly?
Oh yes. Yes I do. It was a trait I learned from…I dunno, time out of mind. It was an essential skill for growing up in an abusive, alcoholic, emotionally volatile household. But this was also what I observed with all the women in my extended family—even those in families without that level of dysfunction. It was almost like it went hand-in-hand with being a woman.
Always do for others first. Always deny yourself. Always sacrifice. Offer it up. Life is hard. Expect nothing and you won’t be disappointed. Who the hell else is going to do it if I don’t? That sort of thing.
And now I’m watching my mother slowly descend into her cancer; it’s affecting her brain now. Strangers wouldn’t see it, but I do. She spent her whole life doing this shit. The good clothes stayed in the closet. The good plates—the ones she worked her ass off paying over time for (back in the day, you could buy good pots/pans and china on the installment plan—door-to-door sales. I don’t know if they do this anymore; I was offered this deal back in the eighties, but at the time I couldn’t afford it)—-well anyway, I’ve never seen those plates get used, and I turn 42 next month.
And it’s all part of the same continuum—-the “I’m here for others. I’m not worth it but they are” type of thing. And it’s killing. Literally killing.
That’s why it drives me nuts when I see long screeds about the selfishness of people, how “we’re” (got a mouse in your pcoket?) all self-centered and consumerist and shit…..I think to myself, “don’t you have a mother? grandmothers? aunts? godmothers? do you know any women at all?” even when the author is a woman. Because selfishness isn’t something I generally see in women. It’s the opposite—it’s self-negation almost to the point of obliteration. We (yeah, got a mouse in my pocket!) spend our time thinking about others first and ourselves last. Running ourselves into the ground mentally and physically to make sure others are taken care of. Earning our right to be here, I guess.
I’ve found myself doing the same damn thing. I want to stop, too. But it’s hard. It’s hard to not fall back into the same pattern.
April 17th, 2009 at 6:45 am #
oh, la lubu. Your mother’s story just breaks my heart. First–I swear to you, I SAW you and her and your daughter having a *magnificent* meal served on those amazing plates–I really did. When I read your comments, I had to stop, because this image just flashed in front of me–you and your daughter and your mother laughing like crazy and eating some really fancy food ordered from a resturant off of those beautiful plates. All of you, ALL OF YOU, deserve to eat off of those plates, to feel happy and good and wonderful together, and to know that the beauty and “good” part of those plates were meant for each of you–nobody else.
And yes yes yes yes to “hand in hand with being a woman”–I think it hits immigrant/poc communities especially hard for women. There is always sacrifice that has to happen in immigrant communities and poc communities–and I think that is how sexism plays out. Women give their souls, their very cells to the family, and then when they die, they’re recognized as being saint like. Our rewards for eternal sacrifice. When we die, we’re called saints. And the whole abusive emotionally volatile household thing–When secrets are everywhere, they are so thick, a kid can taste them, but they’re always kept just out of reach of the kid. SO what does that kid do, but spend her whole life trying to read signals to see if she can figure out what is *really* meant when somebody does this or that?
It is hard, it is SO hard to stop trying to read the minds of others. But I saw it crop up in my kids–”he thinks I sux at X!!!” when really he was just more interested in playing with trucks than listening to X. My kids SUCK at trying to read other people’s minds, and I want to keep it that way. I don’t want them to have the skills I have at guessing and thinking through and being hyper aware and anticipating. We’ve all been talking about what it means—and how impossible it really is to read other people’s minds. ANd how you shouldn’t really think you know what other people think until they tell you.
Now, if only I could heed my own words of advice.
I’m getting there. I really am. But it takes work.
Much love to you La lubu. ANd if you ever do have a meal with your mom with those plates, take pictures. For real. I will post them up here and we will all glory and surround you and your mom and your daughter in the beauty of your worthiness.
xoxo
April 17th, 2009 at 7:08 am #
p.s. La Lubu, I think I keep having visions over you and your mother and your daughter!!!! I think I had a vision last time when we were talking about you possibly coming to the AMC! Really, us Chicanas are good that way. You can always count on us for visions. :p
April 17th, 2009 at 1:57 pm #
yes to this whole post.
and also how hard it is to be expected to read everyone else’s mind while they are allowed to project a million things on to yours and then crucify you for them. subject never object. even on the left.
April 17th, 2009 at 2:44 pm #
Your health (emotional, physical, spiritual) is wayyyyyy more important than being the best nonverbal interpreter there ever was.
April 17th, 2009 at 3:18 pm #
Ohhh, girl, have been trying to readjust this same habit for years! I think that’s were most of my stress and eating for comforting came from. This is the first year, I can (strongly) say I’m done also!
April 17th, 2009 at 5:39 pm #
yes….. i haven’t even realized i did this until recently, but it is SO paralyzing.
April 19th, 2009 at 12:20 pm #
You know, it took me a while to figure it out, but I realized that when I do that self-negating stuff, it actually is about selfishness and ego, not real generosity… In some way, it’s about being the “best” woman (according to some very fucked up cultural standards), or at least being acceptable enough to be “loved” by others in that fucked up culture… And the only reason I would care about being the “best” is because I think I’m somehow special, or more important than everyone else. The only reason I’d be so focused on external approval is because of a lack of self-love.
If you just love everyone the way they are, and you don’t think of yourself as special, why would you have to be the best? Then you’d just love yourself, and love others the same way (not more than) you love yourself. That state of mind seems like it would naturally lead to a balance between self-care and care for others.