I'm not sure whether it matters if you get some or all of what you wanted from life or you didn't. You learn either way. I am 82 and really like being an older woman. I like it so much, I wrote a book about it, called The Granny Who Stands on her Head: Reflections on growing older. The point is that by my age, you really know who you are, are comfortable in your own skin and just say what you think. I don't know why it takes a lifetime to reach this point, but it does. Perhaps a bit of compensation when you don't have so many years left.
That's a good way of looking at it. Always appreciate your wisdom and perspective Ann. I want to be just as sure of who I am and comfortable in my own skin as too. Hopefully sooner rather than later! Learning from each other's experience is likely the best way to do that.
Yes, sooner rather than later is good, Kim, but I don't know anyone who thinks it came as soon as they would like. Wish it would and hope it does for you.
No one knows how many years we have remaining although some of us know we're closer to the end than we have ever been before. Older than we've ever been and younger than we'll ever be. Closer to the end it's all about the quality of life, like your standing on your head. I'm glad to be able to stand, to walk and keep my balance, at least for now. As for all the other stuff, bring it on and we'll make the most of it while we can.
Our big life choices are such an amalgam of reasons. It’s hard to untangle motives, influences, and an entire range of desires we may not even understand.
I sometimes wonder if one of the reasons why I was so eager to leave home, embark on a career in humanitarian aid and get away as far as possible was because of my relationship with my dad. He could be overbearing, cruel, demanding, mercurial and demeaning. When I thought of returning home, I also had to consider being in his orbit again. Do I really want to be anywhere near him? My life was better without him.
I didn’t need money, fame, or things. I needed space and distance.
As Tara Westover said in her memoir, Educated:
“You can love someone and still choose to say goodbye to them. You can miss a person every day, and still be glad that they are no longer in your life.”
For me, it was a hard choice to come back, and when we finally returned home, there was a point when I had to cut him out of my life. I was trying to regain control of my mind from debilitating PTSD and his demands, criticism, and cruelty were too much to deal with.
He is now old, alone, and in a nursing home. I feel guilty about not spending time with him, but remind myself his abuse started in my childhood, continued throughout my life, and there is nothing I can say or do to change things because he caused the situation, and I can’t change him.
I certainly had no idea or understood what was motivating or influencing me back when I was young, only that I needed and wanted to get out and away. I loved my mom, but I also knew I needed to get away from her. Then cried my eyeballs out on the phone with her when I was on my own at 18, missing her, but still knowing it was the best thing to do for me. Our entanglements and attachments are so deeply rooted, but I'm sure your relationship with your dad likely played a big role by the sounds of it.
Your dad made his bed a long time ago, so no guilt required by you. I think you I have already mentioned to you my husband had the same experience and he was at peace with it when his dad finally did pass away. He explained he grieved his dad a long long time ago. Long before he eventually passed away. He never did go to see him when he went to a home. And has no regrets. He just looks to his own actions as a father with his own kids. As I know you do too.
P.S. that Tara Westover quote is a good one Switter. Gotta keep that one handy.
I’ve come to the same place as your husband. The grieving is in the distant past. I try to focus on positive memories and minimize the others. It’s all we can do when the other person can’t or won’t change. I don’t know if he experienced trauma during the Korean War or if he had a personality disorder. My sister, who endured some pretty awful experiences because of him, spent time reaching out to our cousins to learn about his three brothers. Every cousin said their dads were kind, gentle, supportive and thoughtful men.
He’s Dutch and was a child during WW2 in Holland. And the youngest of 11 children, so he was kind of the runt of the litter and could never quite measure up to his very accomplished older siblings. So, he married a young woman at 17, had babies, took her them to Canada and then created his own little fiefdom that he ruled over where noone could influence her or anyone else. Narcissist of the first degree.
There are several similarities: runt and baby of the litter, I was born just barely within the legal timeframe to some resentment, I think, and a fiefdom no one could influence. We attended small, parochial schools and a couple of teachers reported to the school boards about the bruises and welts we brought with us to school, but when they confronted him, he would have an angry outburst, after which we would move to a new town.
Here’s the good part: his behavior stopped with us. My children still seem to love and even like me!
"Was there ever a time when I was faced with reality I didn't like?"
Most definitely. The fact is, that epilepsy and its imprints have been a constant specter in my life for the last 15 years, and as much as I may long to, I cannot look away from them. Seizures and their concomitant complications—everything from broken teeth to shattered facial bones to uncertainties about work and the future—are simply a fact. It can only be what it is, and no amount of 'denial dancing' on my part is going to change any of it. The only way to be OK is through a kind of radical self-acceptance that lets me trace a way back to humor and joy. :)
You’re a brave and resilient warrior woman. Reality really did come and smack you in the face—literally! More than once! I wish it weren’t so, but your radical acceptance has provided us, your readers, with some exceptional wisdom and insight, all with your characteristic humorous spin to it. You are such a delight Alisa. Xo
The topic of wherever we go there we are seems to be the theme of my Substack reads this week (I love it when that happens!) as this is not the first. I am getting the message! Thank you Kim.
My first comment about the grass being greener over the septic tank was a silly illustration. This comment is a little more serious having to do with a balanced life being a myth or from my perspective what happens when people try and compartmentalize life into different categories, time for work, time for play, time for sleep, time to be awake, carving out pieces here and there instead of seeing life as a whole, integrated experience with all these facets, a multitude of colors, shapes, sizes and activities that make up who we are, complex creatures not easily seen in our entirety. We share and show pieces of ourselves and I'm not sure how we would best represent ourselves in our completeness. For one thing we're all still "a work in progress" unfinished until we breathe our last. Or at least that's how I see myself. I tried to express a bit of that with this old post, "This Version of Me". https://garygruber.substack.com/p/this-version-of-me. It's OK but far from complete.
Lots of wisdom here Kim. Thanks again for the prompt to step back and think one more time about - what are we really searching/ striving for? When we can't find it "out there," maybe it's because it's already here within us waiting to be nourished.
This is something we all struggle with constantly. I've written a lot about this as well, detailing my own and others' struggles with "Living the Dream" (usually a facade). Thanks for the post, Kim.
This was beautiful and well written. I was just reading in a wonderful book called Positivity Bias that a person who struggles develops a life long strength. After finally forgiving I am thankful for some experiences as they are lessons that inform who I am today. Thank you for this thoughtful piece.
I know!! I keep hoping that maybe by sharing some of this I can help my daughter learn some of these lessons a little sooner. I don't want to have her wait until she's almost 60! Although I suppose it's the act of going "through" that gives you the wisdom. I just wish we could impart it and voila! Ah, if only it were that easy.
Covid FORCED me to stop achieving. Like literally! My mountain summit hike and my marathon races were all cancelled. I had no choice but to stop striving and face the reality of what I spent so much of my life avoiding.
Now, writing this in my parents back garden, with no adulting 'achievements' ticked off at all…I'm so much happier and eternally grateful for the pandemic pause to figure out what truly did make me happier.
All I wanted as a kid was to be just like everyone else. My home was my sanctuary. It was the outside world where I didn’t always feel welcome, which convinced me that there was something wrong with me.
I'm not sure whether it matters if you get some or all of what you wanted from life or you didn't. You learn either way. I am 82 and really like being an older woman. I like it so much, I wrote a book about it, called The Granny Who Stands on her Head: Reflections on growing older. The point is that by my age, you really know who you are, are comfortable in your own skin and just say what you think. I don't know why it takes a lifetime to reach this point, but it does. Perhaps a bit of compensation when you don't have so many years left.
That's a good way of looking at it. Always appreciate your wisdom and perspective Ann. I want to be just as sure of who I am and comfortable in my own skin as too. Hopefully sooner rather than later! Learning from each other's experience is likely the best way to do that.
Yes, sooner rather than later is good, Kim, but I don't know anyone who thinks it came as soon as they would like. Wish it would and hope it does for you.
"I don't know why it takes a lifetime to reach this point, but it does."
- At 71, that has been my experience. Very comfortable with who and where I am now, though.
It’s encouraging to hear that as we get older we only feel more comfortable with who we are and where we are.
No one knows how many years we have remaining although some of us know we're closer to the end than we have ever been before. Older than we've ever been and younger than we'll ever be. Closer to the end it's all about the quality of life, like your standing on your head. I'm glad to be able to stand, to walk and keep my balance, at least for now. As for all the other stuff, bring it on and we'll make the most of it while we can.
The grass is greener….over the septic tank. From Erma Bombeck, years ago
Ha! I remember my mom had an Erma Bombeck book and I vaguely remember that one Gary!
Our big life choices are such an amalgam of reasons. It’s hard to untangle motives, influences, and an entire range of desires we may not even understand.
I sometimes wonder if one of the reasons why I was so eager to leave home, embark on a career in humanitarian aid and get away as far as possible was because of my relationship with my dad. He could be overbearing, cruel, demanding, mercurial and demeaning. When I thought of returning home, I also had to consider being in his orbit again. Do I really want to be anywhere near him? My life was better without him.
I didn’t need money, fame, or things. I needed space and distance.
As Tara Westover said in her memoir, Educated:
“You can love someone and still choose to say goodbye to them. You can miss a person every day, and still be glad that they are no longer in your life.”
For me, it was a hard choice to come back, and when we finally returned home, there was a point when I had to cut him out of my life. I was trying to regain control of my mind from debilitating PTSD and his demands, criticism, and cruelty were too much to deal with.
He is now old, alone, and in a nursing home. I feel guilty about not spending time with him, but remind myself his abuse started in my childhood, continued throughout my life, and there is nothing I can say or do to change things because he caused the situation, and I can’t change him.
I certainly had no idea or understood what was motivating or influencing me back when I was young, only that I needed and wanted to get out and away. I loved my mom, but I also knew I needed to get away from her. Then cried my eyeballs out on the phone with her when I was on my own at 18, missing her, but still knowing it was the best thing to do for me. Our entanglements and attachments are so deeply rooted, but I'm sure your relationship with your dad likely played a big role by the sounds of it.
Your dad made his bed a long time ago, so no guilt required by you. I think you I have already mentioned to you my husband had the same experience and he was at peace with it when his dad finally did pass away. He explained he grieved his dad a long long time ago. Long before he eventually passed away. He never did go to see him when he went to a home. And has no regrets. He just looks to his own actions as a father with his own kids. As I know you do too.
P.S. that Tara Westover quote is a good one Switter. Gotta keep that one handy.
I’ve come to the same place as your husband. The grieving is in the distant past. I try to focus on positive memories and minimize the others. It’s all we can do when the other person can’t or won’t change. I don’t know if he experienced trauma during the Korean War or if he had a personality disorder. My sister, who endured some pretty awful experiences because of him, spent time reaching out to our cousins to learn about his three brothers. Every cousin said their dads were kind, gentle, supportive and thoughtful men.
He’s Dutch and was a child during WW2 in Holland. And the youngest of 11 children, so he was kind of the runt of the litter and could never quite measure up to his very accomplished older siblings. So, he married a young woman at 17, had babies, took her them to Canada and then created his own little fiefdom that he ruled over where noone could influence her or anyone else. Narcissist of the first degree.
There are several similarities: runt and baby of the litter, I was born just barely within the legal timeframe to some resentment, I think, and a fiefdom no one could influence. We attended small, parochial schools and a couple of teachers reported to the school boards about the bruises and welts we brought with us to school, but when they confronted him, he would have an angry outburst, after which we would move to a new town.
Here’s the good part: his behavior stopped with us. My children still seem to love and even like me!
"Was there ever a time when I was faced with reality I didn't like?"
Most definitely. The fact is, that epilepsy and its imprints have been a constant specter in my life for the last 15 years, and as much as I may long to, I cannot look away from them. Seizures and their concomitant complications—everything from broken teeth to shattered facial bones to uncertainties about work and the future—are simply a fact. It can only be what it is, and no amount of 'denial dancing' on my part is going to change any of it. The only way to be OK is through a kind of radical self-acceptance that lets me trace a way back to humor and joy. :)
You’re a brave and resilient warrior woman. Reality really did come and smack you in the face—literally! More than once! I wish it weren’t so, but your radical acceptance has provided us, your readers, with some exceptional wisdom and insight, all with your characteristic humorous spin to it. You are such a delight Alisa. Xo
Yes. Yes. And yes. I check all the boxes.
The topic of wherever we go there we are seems to be the theme of my Substack reads this week (I love it when that happens!) as this is not the first. I am getting the message! Thank you Kim.
❤️ you Donna! Xo
My first comment about the grass being greener over the septic tank was a silly illustration. This comment is a little more serious having to do with a balanced life being a myth or from my perspective what happens when people try and compartmentalize life into different categories, time for work, time for play, time for sleep, time to be awake, carving out pieces here and there instead of seeing life as a whole, integrated experience with all these facets, a multitude of colors, shapes, sizes and activities that make up who we are, complex creatures not easily seen in our entirety. We share and show pieces of ourselves and I'm not sure how we would best represent ourselves in our completeness. For one thing we're all still "a work in progress" unfinished until we breathe our last. Or at least that's how I see myself. I tried to express a bit of that with this old post, "This Version of Me". https://garygruber.substack.com/p/this-version-of-me. It's OK but far from complete.
Lots of wisdom here Kim. Thanks again for the prompt to step back and think one more time about - what are we really searching/ striving for? When we can't find it "out there," maybe it's because it's already here within us waiting to be nourished.
This is something we all struggle with constantly. I've written a lot about this as well, detailing my own and others' struggles with "Living the Dream" (usually a facade). Thanks for the post, Kim.
I appreciate you being here and sharing your own experience Cork!
Thus resonates with me so much!
"But it's quicker if I do it myself." Right? LOL. Love this, Kim. xo
Absolutely!! You know my type too well. xo
We’re twins. xo
Oof! Learning to “do with”! Felt, Kim. Thank you 🙏🏼🫶🏼
🤍🤍 xo
This was beautiful and well written. I was just reading in a wonderful book called Positivity Bias that a person who struggles develops a life long strength. After finally forgiving I am thankful for some experiences as they are lessons that inform who I am today. Thank you for this thoughtful piece.
Thanks Carissa. Isn't it interesting how our life experiences continue to inform us even at this age? It seems the learning is never done. xo
The title says it all - but still, it takes us a whole life to learn this, it seems!
I know!! I keep hoping that maybe by sharing some of this I can help my daughter learn some of these lessons a little sooner. I don't want to have her wait until she's almost 60! Although I suppose it's the act of going "through" that gives you the wisdom. I just wish we could impart it and voila! Ah, if only it were that easy.
Covid FORCED me to stop achieving. Like literally! My mountain summit hike and my marathon races were all cancelled. I had no choice but to stop striving and face the reality of what I spent so much of my life avoiding.
Now, writing this in my parents back garden, with no adulting 'achievements' ticked off at all…I'm so much happier and eternally grateful for the pandemic pause to figure out what truly did make me happier.
All I wanted as a kid was to be just like everyone else. My home was my sanctuary. It was the outside world where I didn’t always feel welcome, which convinced me that there was something wrong with me.