Sometimes, you need to just step away from things and enjoy.

Today was a fairly nice day. I woke up, got dressed, and took the boyf to work. Along the way I got a call to set up an interview for a second job. Checked in at my first job to make sure they wouldn’t be needing assistance today, then drove up to visit my folks. Mom and I did some nice grocery stocking, plus we got some hair dye and facial masks so we could just have a night of girly glory. No troubles, no cares, just us chicks. One chocolate mask and two boxes of dye later (my hair is getting ridiculously long), I pack up and drive back home, taking the forty-five minute commute to think of just how blessed I am to have so much goodness in my life.

Of course, I could complain about a lot of things. I have plenty of regrets under my belt. I have many instances where I ask, “What if?” And sometimes, when people are unhappy, I ask myself, “Did I do anything wrong?” But to be honest, I find myself less and less willing to get caught up on the “what ifs” and “where did I go wrongs?”. Because if all the things I’ve done have brought me here, it can’t really be wrong, can it? I can’t please everyone – that’s just a fact of life. But I can please myself. And I do. I am happy with who I am. I am content. That’s what counts. Anything or anyone that attempts to distract me from this is completely and utterly unimportant.

Life is what you make it. I’m making mine good.

There came a point in my beauty-shopping when I realized that I just needed to slow down. I’d reflect on my hauls and, while I was happy about the majority of my purchases, there were a few that I wound up being confused about. Furthermore, I found myself not being able to truly enjoy the products I acquired, because I was always getting something shiny and new.

A few days after my birthday, I saw a post by The Peach declaring that she and another blogger were going to stick to a 30 day detox. I figured if they can do it, why can’t I? So I said to myself, “self, let’s do this.”

And I did it.

And I’m not going to lie, it wasn’t particularly easy. I still followed my favourite beauty blogs, so I knew about all the hot new things I wanted to buy (oh, Candy Yum Yum), plus all the great drugstore sales (a few new nail polishes never hurt anybody, right?). Then there was the horrible temptation of things going on 50% off clearance at work. There were a few times when I was so tempted that I had items in-hand, but a mix of guilt and determination forced me to put it all back.  I did make one purchase at work for my parents (I might as well pick up their stuff for them, because goodness only knows when they’ll be able to drive up here), and claimed a freebie from that purchase for myself, but other than that, I didn’t break my promise to myself.

I can say I learned a thing or two from the experience. The first and most important thing, I think, was that everything goes on sale again eventually.  X% OFF sounds fantastic, incredible, hard to resist and altogether awesome, but it isn’t something you have to jump on immediately.  Give it a few weeks, and another store or website will have a comparable sale. If you miss it, you’ll survive.

Also, just because it’s on sale doesn’t mean you should buy it. Think of what you already have in your collection first.  Does the item fill a need? There were a good handful of lip products to go on clearance at work, including some very nice lip balms, and I must say I had a hard time passing up on those. I am a balm fiend — it is the only beauty product that I consider a “daily essential”.  But I managed to talk myself out of stocking up on the sale balms after I realized how much I already have. Now, will I buy more balms in the future? Sure, I love trying new ones. But I don’t need to feel pressured into buying them because of some tempting percentages-off.

Finally, I have some awesome things in my collection already. There are some gaps to fill, sure, but it really pays to take stock of what you already have, and love your acquisitions for what they are… and what they could be, if you gave it a chance. If you’re missing a colour, mix ones you already have. If you’re bored of what you have, pair it with something different. If you’re looking for something to address a particular hair or skin problem, research home remedies – a lemon is cheap, tasty, and multi-purpose. Beauty is creative, adaptive, and not limited by “suggested use”.

At the start of my “detox” adventure, I also told myself that I was putting myself on a monthly budget. This time of not purchasing anything gave me a chance to get used to the idea, and be perfectly okay with it.  Which is very fortunate, considering my car decided to play “make-believe” and declare itself a giant, shiny, car-shaped brick.  I should have it back on the road before the end of the week, but paying the bill back to my parents is going to eat in to any disposable income I would have had otherwise.  My poor, poor Baby…

Before my car decided to get all levels of broken, I did make a small celebratory purchase with Antoinette’s Revolution Cosmetics, as I’ve seen some positively lustworthy swatches popping up around the Internets. Even if that winds up being my only new purchase for the month (and it probably will, eek!), I’m very, very excited to try them out!

There comes a time in our lives when we reflect on our past, and wonder how differently we could be living at this moment if we had taken different paths. Especially in terms of interpersonal relationships. We look back on our friends and lovers, people we once held so near and dear, and we wonder if we could have kept them in our lives. “Maybe, if I could’ve been a better man, things would be okay today.”

But here’s a thought to consider. Maybe the “better man” does not exist. Perhaps the “better man” can never exist.

I’m often accused of having a rather fatalistic point of view, and I can most definitely understand this accusation. To dare saying that the “better man” may not exist seems quite terminal. This is the end, no change, no improvement. It seems to be the sort of thinking that encourages a person to raise their hands in defeat. What’s the point of anything if I can’t grow and change?

This, however, is what makes the thought terminal. We assume that when life goes awry, it’s somehow a fault of our own. Our ego – the need to be the center of our own little universes – blinds us to another very valid possibility: it has nothing to do with us. We can allow ourselves to satisfy our ego and be the center of our universe – indeed, we are – but we cannot let ourselves forget that we are just the center. We fall into the trap of thinking that this is a place of great power and responsibility (therefore, potential blame), but the fact of the matter is that the universe itself still exists all around us. It can influence us, but we honestly do very little to influence it, because the center of the universe is not a seat of power… it’s nothing more than a point in space and time. The center of the universe is pretty fucking Zen.

When I say there is no such thing as the “better man”, this is the train of thought on which I am working. When something falls apart, do I really deserve to shoulder all the blame? When someone doesn’t like the way I am, is it my duty to change for them? These are questions I struggled to fully understand throughout the entirety of my last romantic relationship. I rather thought the answers were quite simple: Yes and Yes. Surely, there is this person I love, who embodies everything I desire. If I want to receive his love, I should be all that he desires. And so I did… or at least, I tried. This was a very important thing that our happiness seemed to hinge on. If I could be who and what he wanted, there was little conflict. Therefore, when there was regular and intense conflict, I knew it was pretty much down to my inability to remain in-character. I failed to please, therefore, it was my responsibility to make it up to him. I would promise him constantly that I would change. That I could be better. That I had been getting better, so I knew I could keep doing it for him.

It never occured to me that all I was was already plenty good enough. If not for him, then maybe for someone else. And if not for anyone else, it could at the very least be good enough for me. I didn’t need to be a better person. I needed a better situation (and, in all honesty, so did he). Although it was hard to write-off all those years of emotional investment, the wisest choice we ever made in our relationship was not to have one. Neither of us could change the core of who we were for the other, and neither of us should have had to feel the pressure to do so in the first place.

It was at this point that I realized that for me, there was no “better man”. I was all that I was, and to be any different would to not be who I am. To try and reach this unattainable goal was to surrender my truest identity. This does not mean I do not grow and change. I very well do, as do all people. What it means is that I no longer see my place in the center-of-my-universe as something fixed. My universe is always changing… growing and shrinking during any given life season, with some systems moving closer to me, and other systems fading further into the distance. My universe is not a sequence of events from Choice-A to Choice-Q: It is something dynamic. It is not a string of consequences, but a web of opportunity.

Failure is not my sole fault, and not my sole responsibility to correct. Failure is my chance to observe and determine if the situation was poorly fitted to me, rather than vice versa. Which is why I left my old college. And why I left my old job. These were situations that would not have improved, no matter how hard I tried to shape myself into the perfect fit. It wasn’t down to me to make myself a better Wildcat, or a better Quiznos employee. It was down to me to find the better University and the better job. And, in the terms of my former relationship, it wasn’t down to me to be a better girlfriend. It was down to me to find the better relationship. It was not time to change myself, but reach out into my universe and find a better situation.

And I do believe this is something universal. I am not the only one who felt the desperate need to be “better” for other people. I know many people in my life who fit this same, tired, self-sacrificing behaviour pattern; people who see a poor fit as being a personal flaw in their character, rather than a flaw of the situation in which they are desperately trying to fit. These behaviours will always exist as long as the myth of the “better man” exists. They will continue to claim faults which they do not have the rights to own. And in doing so, they not only make themselves suffer, but force all the people in the situation to suffer as well… whether it be at work, in class, a couple-relationship, or a small-family relationship… the myth of the “better man” is toxic to those for whom a person wishes to improve. The ‘selfless’ act of shouldering unnecessary blame becomes an incredibly selfish act of forcing unnecessary consequences on everyone around them.

Sometimes, the most responsible thing one can do is free themselves of that illusion of personal responsibility. The most responsible thing to do is look selfish and bow out of a bad situation, because that is, in fact, the most selfless thing one can do. Be selfish and say to yourself, “I am not what needs to change”, and open your eyes to the universe around you. Your better opportunities are out there. Find them, and let them in.

I figured out why I was so goddamned mean to my Mom when I was a teenager.

In my morning class, we were talking about the Existentialist therapy model. I’m a big fan of Frankl, since his views seem to really jive with mine… and because the last therapist I saw back when I was starting college seemed to use this therapy model on me, and it worked incredibly well at readjusting my brain to enjoy the little wonders of the present, and feel excited for the opportunities I may have in the future rather than fear it for no concrete reason (wherever you are, Melissa, thank you). I geek about this way of thinking pretty heavily, so I was all up in that discussion.

We came upon the Nietzsche quote, ‘He who has a why to live can bear with almost any how‘. When asked how this applies to therapy, I almost immediately thought of my adolescence. How many times I simply wanted to die, and how strong that desire was. At least two or three times a week, I would think of how wonderful the relief would be, just to get it all over and done with. To no longer have to wake up and know that today was another day of loneliness and suffering. I thought about the hows and whens, wrote little notes of what needed to be done before and after the fact, this that and the other. But every single time I felt that I was at my wit’s end… I’d think of Mom. And as soon as I thought of her, I realized: no matter how much life hurts, the thought of never getting to see her again hurt worse. So, taking Nietzsche into consideration, my mom was my ‘why’. She is what made me survive the ‘how’.

On the drive home from campus today, I realized that was exactly why we had so much trouble when I was a teen. She was my reason for living. She kept me in this suffering. And I hated her for it. Even though I loved her, and knew that I was incredibly lucky to have her (and Dad) as parent(s), I still hated her for keeping me here. It was all her stupid goddamned fault for giving me something to live for. If it weren’t for her, I could have been free from the dark sea of pain in which I was constantly being churned. And I didn’t let her forget it. While I don’t believe I was ever aware enough of my feelings to tell her in direct words that it was her fault (nor do I think she would’ve understood even if I did tell her, because I don’t think she was ever aware of the fact that she was my last lingering shred of a purpose for living), I didn’t hold back on letting her know just how much I hated suffering life for her.

Cue the epic epiphany music. No, seriously. I was listening to Symphonika when I realized this, so the backing track was pretty epic. I had a chuckle about that. You should, too. It was the perfect moment.

Now, of course, I don’t feel this way. Now, having survived it all for long enough to see the other side, I realize how amazing it was to have her as an anchor. Every time I think of how she helped me through those horrible years, I feel more than blessed. And even though it took us years to repair the damage that was wrought, we’re tighter than ever. I’m extremely proud to call her my Mom and my best friend. After all, ‘That which does not kill us makes us stronger‘ (ILU Nietzsche, for reals). We survived it, in entirely different ways, but still together.

This realization made me wonder… how many other parents are in this exact situation with their children? How much of a teenager’s rage against their parents is rooted in the fact that they actually love them? How many times is a mother or father blamed for daring to give us a reason to live? Is “I wish I’d never been born!” just popular subconscious teenspeak for “why do you love me so much that you make me want to stay with you?” And how can we let our parents know this? How can we let them know that the reason we hate them is because honestly, underneath all the sneering and back-talking and scare-tactics, we actually love them? That we still want them nearby? How can we let them know the truth of things, when our actions seem to say the exact opposite? I know I was extremely fortunate that I didn’t push Mom away. There comes a point where enough is too much, and some people have a much lower bullshit threshold than she did. What happens to those kids who find a reason to live in their parents, but wind up pushing that reason away because of this epic hitch in logic? What’s left for them, then?

The thought is rather saddening. Here’s this situation that really does make perfect sense when you sit back and think about it, but when you’re caught in the midst of it, it makes no sense at all. And because it’s so incredibly hard to recognize the why’s and how’s of this new love/hate relationship, some people will never know how to deal with it. Or know how to heal from it. These relationships can be lost forever, when the only reason it was ever volatile to begin with was because of how strong the child-parent relationship was to that teenager.  It’s extremely tragic.

As it is so incredibly hard to understand it when you’re in it, I would like to say this to all the parents who have teenagers in the same hateful mess that I was in:

We love you. We love you so much that we do willingly suffer for you. We suffer to keep you in our lives, because you give us reason. You give us meaning. And if you can bear this – if you can stand by and support us through these hellish years we’ve found ourselves in, long enough so we can push through it all and see our own reason in ourselves – we will forgive you. We will be grateful to you for the giving us that reason to live. And we all hope that someday, you’ll forgive us, too.