You Are Who You Eat With

You know how "you can't afford a negative thought?" How the law of attraction says that we increase what we focus on? How you are what you eat? Is there one about how you become your environment, or something like that? Because that was brought home to me tonight, as I headed back from another enjoyable day with my peeps at the Oxnard house.

When I was a child responsibility was instilled in me early. All the neighborhood kids would do something we all knew we weren't allowed to do, like play in the swamp. Yeah, it was said to be over 20 feet deep in places and we could've died. We didn't, so it's one of those "Back in the day, we managed to ride our bikes without helmets and survived" memories. But if any of us had tragically drowned, it wouldn't be funny that we regularly disobeyed our parents and risked our lives. Anyway, upon being busted, my mother didn't just yell at me. She said, "You should've known better. You're smarter and it's your job to keep the others from doing such stupid things." Why? Why was I smarter and why was it my job? She didn't know my IQ or the other kid's either. But she was my mother and she said I should've known better. So the guilt ruined the forays into the previously exciting, shadowy depths of the swamp. I couldn't enjoy balancing on a log and making it to a patch of dry ground because, if any of the other kids didn't make it and got hurt, it'd be all my fault.

It was the beginning of a lifetime of being the responsible one, the trustworthy one, the dutiful one. My only "rebellion" was running away to join the military, rather than go to college as everyone expected. Cutting off my nose to spite my face is the cliché that comes to mind for that decision.

After a stint in the Navy my parents asked me to move in with them in order to keep my sister from doing it. We're so dysfunctional. My sister wanted to move into their spare room and have them take care of her and her children for an indeterminate but certainly lengthy time. The kids would've been welcome, but my sister -- not so much. So they got me to move in first, hence no "spare" room. And the workload for the family appraisal business was so heavy that they really needed me to go to work for them, rather than do anything else that I might want. I wasn't sure what I wanted, so I went along. And the door on the trap slammed shut.

I eventually moved into my own place, I occasionally took other, temporary jobs when the real estate market was slow, but I was tethered to the family business and the family. I was a "change of life" baby for my mom, so the folks were older than if I'd been born first in the order of sibs. My brother and sister were out west, and therefore had "lives of their own." I was it. I was it unless I wanted to leave them to their own devices. But my father was diagnosed with Parkinson's disease, and couldn't drive himself around the state doing the appraisals himself. And he couldn't afford to hire someone to do that and be his assistant. Because anyone else but me would require a decent salary, and he could use me and "stay in business, which is all that keeps a roof over your mother's head." I couldn't leave my mom to my father's devices. Duty. Guilt. I just couldn't. There was no one telling me I was important, that my time and my happiness mattered. So I didn't believe it.

For years and years and years, my environment was ruled by old people, by people whose dreams were long dead and whose hope was nonexistent and where negativity ruled. The occasional comments by friends didn't stand a chance against my daily dose of "That won't work," and "You're too old to start something like that now." It may have been human nature, the need to keep their helper and eventual caregiver close, but it was bad parenting nonetheless.

I still have those negative, self-defeating thoughts in my head. I'm 50. It's too late for this or that, I've wasted too much time, the fact that I didn't have kids means I'll die alone (eating cat food -- have you priced cat food? not as cheap as you might think). Even living with Gwen and John didn't help much. Through no fault of hers, Gwen was tired all the time. It was the amyloidosis, though we didn't know it for months, that made her come from work and need a nap. John is 75 and probably has arteries that are so clogged it's a wonder he can function, so his daily naps are no surprise. He has the same, "It can't be done, you'd be a fool to try that, what makes you think you can do that when you've never done anything like it before" outlook as my father. So I was once again in a household of old, tired people. On the few occasions when Gwen tried to give me a pep talk her heart was in it, but her delivery was lacking.

Now I try to interact with John as little as possible, and spend a lot more time with young, more optimistic people. Okay, I often have no idea who they're talking about when it comes to singers or gaming or certain action movies. But they willingly explain it to me and never suggest I'm too old to keep up. They may mock me, but they don't assume I can't learn something new.

My friend Kathy* says things like, "Why on earth aren't you trying to sell your book? What do you have to lose?" My friend Logan, who is in his twenties, just assumes that doing anything and everything is possible, and therefore it is. He's back in school and writing and coming up with one entrepreneurial idea after another. And he doesn't see me as having waited too long or wasted too much time. He just says, "Write the synopsis, Mary." As if I'll actually do it. Well, after he told me that I didn't have to follow any preconceived notions about what a blog is, I managed to start this one. So, yeah, I can look for a job and go over the manuscript again and get that synopsis written and work up the nerve to share my old short stories and write new ones and begin the sequel to the finished book and do the Zumba workout (and die and be resuscitated) and anything and everything else I might have on my to-do list.

Because now my environment is one of positive people who believe in possibilities, and "not" has been replaced by "why not?"

Maybe I'm easily influenced. Maybe this all sounds like a big blame game and cop out for potential not fully achieved. But I honestly believe that our surroundings play a large part in who we become. There are plenty of examples of good, strong people who overcome backgrounds that are horrid and go on to greatness. I admire them, but I don't know how they do it. In the past I've claimed to be too empathetic, but maybe it's closer to the truth that I'm a chameleon. And I'm finally in a bright, sunny environment, practically glowing a golden hue.

*Name changed because my friend didn't like being named in my blog.  Not this post, but I like to be thorough so am editing all that she's mentioned in.