2020 was a lesson in what I can change and what I can’t.
As children, we all find ourselves in circumstances that are out of our control. That’s why it’s so important to have parents or adults in our lives who offer us stability, security, and a semblance of love. I learned quite early that I could not change my circumstances; I simply had to find a way to survive in this world. Everyone reacts to this reality differently. For me, I focused on what I could control—and what I could control was myself. Of course I went through the paces many others go through—rebellion, anger, depression. But none of those things fixed the problem—indeed, they seemed to make it worse. So somewhere in my teenage years, I recognized that I could change my attitude. Bitterness and disillusionment weren’t getting me anywhere. It was up to me to change my life. So I did.
Recognizing our ability to change is empowering. We get to decide. All we need to do is make up our mind, and commit to a goal.
It all began with a stark acceptance that no one else can care about me the way that I needed to care about myself. Yes, I would’ve liked to have responsible parents. But I didn’t. Sure, I would’ve liked to have more people notice my strengths, but they didn’t. And in truth, I had a ton of advantages—I was never hungry, always well-dressed, and certainly I was cared for—it was just…different from how I wished it were. I decided quite early on that my success would depend on me. It didn’t matter if other people recognized my strengths—I had to recognize them. It didn’t matter if other people believed in me—I had to believe in myself. And it sure as hell didn’t matter if I was lucky—I’d have to make my own luck.
This was my story, and I would write it. So that’s what I did. I decided what kind of student I wanted to be, and I became that student. I decided what kind of family life I envisioned for my own children, and I built it. I set achievable goals, and I ticked them off, one by one. So while things happened I couldn’t control—being orphaned at 21, for instance—I focused on what I wanted my life to look like, and I went after it. I became so good at making things happen that I believed I could make anything happen. I decided I wanted to be a runner, and within five years I ran a 3:19 marathon. I could do that.
So why couldn’t I make other people be who I wanted them to be? This is where I went wrong.
I somehow had a recognition in reverse—I thought because I could change myself, I could change the world. This is not really true.
I married a man who in many ways was exactly what I sought—stable, reliable, hard-working. All the things I didn’t have growing up. He never expressed any wish to change. But I saw early on issues with emotional availability, and I just figured I could fix him. Spoiler alert: that didn’t work. Then I met another man who said he wanted to change, and the person he said he wanted to be was exactly the person I was looking for! I knew he was not yet that person, but here was a man who was saying he wanted to be that person, and I knew that he could do it. I could teach him how to do it! Spoiler alert: that was even worse. As it turns out, there are a ton of people who say they want to change, but they just can’t do it.
This was honestly, and embarrassingly, news to me.
What is required to change is willpower and commitment. It requires resolve and dedication and perseverance, because change is really freaking hard. Leaving my marriage was exceptionally difficult, and I made plenty of serious mistakes in the process. Leaving behind the man who promised to be the one I was looking for was, in some ways, even harder. It felt like I failed—I couldn’t make things happen. And this was the story about myself that I valued beyond all others. It did not matter if I am the child of alcoholics, if my youth was filled with trauma, if I failed at creating the perfect childhood of an intact home for my own children—I was going to MAKE it turn out okay. And the thing is, this works really well when it’s just about me and my goals. But when you throw other people into the mix…well, this is what I failed to understand.
If I want to do something—if I decide it is who I want to be, it’s something that will result in a positive outcome, I just do it. I can literally make it happen. But not everyone is this way. I know now that it was wrong of me to go into a marriage thinking I could fix something I knew was missing. I also know that when that other man told me he wanted to be someone who was, in all honesty, vastly different from who he is, I should’ve run in the other direction. Now I can see that while change is empowering, it’s not a gift you can give or a commitment you can inspire. It’s got to come from within. It is a decision a person makes.
The really cool thing is that once we grasp this idea, we can make decisions for ourselves that don’t involve changing other people. We can walk away from toxic relationships. We can spend less time arguing on the internet. We can stop shaking our heads in disbelief that other people don’t see the world the way we see it. And we can stop trying to make them see it our way—because it won’t work. We can channel all that amazing energy in to being who we want to be, and we can surround ourselves with people who act in accordance with our beliefs. We can stop fighting a fight that isn’t ours, but we can also remain curious and empathetic. We can recognize that our world views are also not complete, that we still have much to learn. And we can focus on our own growth, and how that might contribute positively to the world around us.
