It seems the more I try to fix the things that are going wrong in my life the more things go wrong. Really the only thing that has gone right lately was Ben finally finding a job. This week has been particularly stressful because I’ve been at odds with my family. As much as I try to fit in, I don’t, and it leads to major issues. It’s not like I’m this wild rebellious person. I just have different views on the world, and I do things differently. I don’t hide in a corner scared at the least little thing. I get out there and do things, and if I fall on my face oh well. At least I tried. Apparently it’s wrong of me to try new things.
For instance I’ve been working on starting up a new business, and my family knows it. A few days ago a group of family members sat me down and tried to tell me I was wasting my time and money because no one would ever be interested in buying my product. I’m just not the type of person who succeeds, so it would all blow up in my face.
What kind of people say that to someone they supposedly love and support? I definitely don’t have their support in anything, and most of the time I feel like I don’t have their love either. Yesterday evening I was rearranging stuff in the attic making more room to store Ellie’s baby clothes that no longer fits when I came across a box that my Grandma must have left behind without realizing it. It was tucked back in a corner on the far end of the attic, so I’m sure she never ventured that far when they left this house 18 years ago.
Of course I was nosey and opened the box to see what was in it. There were trophies and awards my aunt earned in hair competitions, My mom's bowling trophies, and all kinds of things showing the accomplishments of her children. She encouraged them to try their best, yet she and my mom both seem to go out of their way to tell me I’m going to fail at anything I do. Memories of my childhood came flooding back, and I remembered many other times I was told not to do something because I would always fail. There was the time I wanted to take piano lessons, and my Mom said I’d never stick with it so she wouldn’t let me. Then there was college. I had my heart set on one career, but both of them went on and on about how I couldn’t do it. They finally wore me down until I chose the career choice they felt was best for me, and ya know what? I hated it, and I dropped out of college because I couldn’t stand it.
I sat there wondering how they could justify acting that way and telling me I would fail without giving me a chance. I’ve never been a quitter. When I try something I try hard, and I do my best to succeed. If after giving it my all I fail that’s different. I tried, and I’m proud of myself for trying. I will never tell my daughter she can’t do something. I will always make sure she knows I believe she can do anything she sets her mind to, and no matter what the end result may be I will ALWAYS be proud of her for at least giving it a try.
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