the ramble

I’ve always considered myself a reliable person. If I say I’m going to be there, I’ll be there, with bells on and probably half an hour early. If I say I’ll get it done, I’m going to get it (and probably something additional that you maybe might kind of sort of want because it makes your life easier or your content better) done.

I like this about myself.

However, with this character trait comes some more difficult traits to combat–like saying no or changing my mind. If I say I want to come to your party, but then I decide I really don’t feel well or work beat me into the ground that day, I have a really hard time backing out. Even with lots of notice. If I want to adopt a puppy from you, but you call me early and the timing is all wrong and I’m not ready, I do back out, but I feel bad and off-kilter.

Part of this is because I hate when people don’t come through for me. I’ve spent too many evenings sitting in a restaurant alone because everyone who RSVPed for girls night out decided at the very last second that they couldn’t make it. I’ve spent enough time planning a big dinner and then eating most of it myself because people didn’t show up. So, I never want to be that person.

Another part of this is that I’m a care taker. I want to take care of you. I want to make sure your life is not negatively impacted by any action of mine (however small that impact might be). I attribute this one to growing up in my household, which some of you may understand:

As the oldest daughter and the most well-traveled person in the family, I had a slightly different perspective on life. I’ll illustrate this by telling you that when I got back from teaching AIDS awareness classes in Africa when I was 15, I asked mom how her summer was and was regaled with updates on who was winning American Idol and how many people had been shot on CSI.

Anyhow, that perspective meant that in a very real way, I was the family mediator. In screaming (and I do mean SCREAMING) conflicts between my devil-may-care sister and my Conservative (capitalization on purpose) parents, I’d spend my time going back and forth, explaining to each person in the family how the other person was feeling.

“It isn’t that you are wrong, per say. It’s just that you made her feel like you think she’s stupid…”

I only remember once taking care of myself at the expense of someone else’s feelings. And that was when I’d had enough of my parents commenting loudly and frequently on my weight when I came home from college.

Not that you should leave other people’s feelings out of the equation, but don’t you sometimes have to take care of yourself?

Anyway, I find it hard to change my mind. Unless I’ve told no one about my plans (which is why people are shocked when I get a puppy, though I’ve been thinking about it for years). I need to find balance in this.

And why is that balance so hard to find?