The right way

Life can be confusing. Especially when something appears to be one thing, but feels like something else.

I grew up in a family where everyone smiled and agreed with each other. Open dissension was frowned upon and inclusion was the rule of thumb. I thought we had the perfect family. My mother was beautiful and my father was brilliant.

I knew I would never be beautiful because I was too big, not fat, but tall. Then, since I couldn't be beautiful, I wanted to be like my father and I was a bright child, but I was a girl. No one ever actually said these words to me, but I knew them just like I knew it was not good to run like a girl, or talk like a girl, especially if you couldn't be a small beautiful airhead.

I was taught to get my way by finagling. Innuendo and mind reading were encouraged, only people can't really read minds, so feelings were always being hurt when someone failed to do just that. Imagine expecting anyone to just say what they wanted, or needed! It denied the others a chance to display their extraordinary enabling skills.

The bar was low as long as everyone played by the rules. We were all loved, but I knew I was not liked and I tried, desperately to fix that. I threw chess games. I pretended not to be able to do things I had no trouble with at all. My teenage years were spent sabotaging my own self. And still I was just a tall girl in a world that felt like it valued boys and small cute girls.

I don't think I figured out passive aggressive until I was in my sixties, which is sort of sad since my whole life was built on the predication that it was the correct way to be. I had learned a few things over time, like if I wanted a birthday present I needed to tell my husband what I wanted and remind him it was coming up, but on the whole, I expected him to do a lot of mind reading too.

It takes a fair amount of determination to change things you grow up believing are the "right way," but it can be done and in my case, at least, it has been worth the effort.