I cared for a little boy as a nanny who when he bumped into a chair or stubbed his toe on a toy he would hit, kick or throw the object and say something to the effect:

“Bad chair!”

“Bad truck!”

There is a simplistic strategy in this that helps protect little ones feelings at a tender time of life and provides a challenge for growth but I did not know that at the time, and while others found it endearing, it rubbed me the wrong way, in a bad  way. It was like wool socks on chapped feet annoying.

I believed myself a strong proponent of personal responsibility. That is unless someone asked me about my divorce.Then I was more than willing to place blame, vilify and over-correct for my own shortcomings; if they were mentioned at all. I couldn’t see my part. Until it happened again.

I was inexcusably blindsided. I clung to the idea of us as a family, even while my delusions of a forever love were crumbling; I would sooner have had my left arm removed than divorce him. I was delirious with pain, seething with anger and drunk with blame. None of this served me because not seeing my part made me vulnerable and my victim viewpoint, sad, small and powerless to outside forces ever present to press in on me, breaking my heart again and again. But…

“It wasn’t me, it was him.”

However, wasn’t I  responsible for choosing him and for believing him even when it meant denying my own judgement? I denied the part of me that knew the risk going in. I could not have imagined how it would all turn out. I was naïve and while certainly I do not blame myself for my naivety, I am still responsible for what I learn from what happened. And I wasn’t even trying. When I blamed it all on him, I set myself up to repeat my mistake. And I did repeat it. Many times. Not only with men but girlfriends too. My inability to see what I was drawing to myself when I did not respect myself, when I did not care about myself, when I made too much space for risky people by claiming to have a special understanding (gross), when sex was allowed to be about everyone but me and was at times brutal and punishing, I was the only one who could close the door and stop the madness.

At a young age an attachment to not being to blame is prominent and we forgive this from a small being with little to no personal power even as we gently teach ownership of actions. As we get older it is an important step in our personal growth to realize our decision to trust where trust was not warranted, to stay when staying causes further pain or to  expose ourselves in a vulnerable way when the timing or situation turns out to not be right, we are to blame for fifty percent of what happens next. In fact, it is a sign of higher emotional intelligence and bodes well for self-esteem to take personal responsibility for our lives and circumstances. I am sorry dear reader if this is a tough pill to swallow but it is the medicine that works.

This mindset is a valuable servant. It was the upshot of personal power I could not get anywhere else. I am responsible for my life. It is on me. Once I decided to own it what happened next could be kin to magic. I realized…“No one can do anything to me.”

 I love saying that. I first heard the idea from a Toltec book For Dummies… when I say it I feel the slight rumblings of a roar…

“Nobody can do anything to me.”

I said it as I prepared for losing my home. I said it as I negotiated with my landlord to stay. I said it as I started my new job, put my son on the bus and took it day by day. I said it to empower myself even as I said I am sorry to me, and to my son.

I did this, it ‘s on me. I accept these consequences willingly. And I won’t let this happen again. Kindness and respect are always owed, no matter who we are, no matter what we do, or say, and if kindness and respect are not there at the end of the day, neither am I. 

I say it as I sit a year after a tumultuous end to another tragic relationship with a small child holding my hand in the wake as we rise from the rubble. I say this as my heart breaks and mends. I say this as the pandemic drones on, as I say goodbye to old friends and as I risk more of myself to the unknown.

 By taking responsibility I am finally here for me and for those who need me. 

Cheers!

Lisa Tibbitts

04/19/2020 Top of Form