I have been, most of my life, been accused of...how shall we say it politely...having an authority problem. Meaning, I don't like to be told what to do. Although I am officially now in my mid-forties, this issue remains something that I need to manage. And most of the time, I do.
Those of you that have worked with me know that I encourage healthy rebellion as part of therapy, because, let's face it, there are a lot of rules that end up needing to be broken if a person is going to heal. Our heads are filled with a lot of rules that were from somebody else's game. They usually end up starting with "You should...", which again, is for me, where my ears close.
My antidote to this is not making more rules, rather, it is identifying the source of the original rule, its "voice", as it were, and thanking it, and then telling it to get lost.
| Wouldn't it be great if we all had this mom? |
The idea of a negative attitude being useful when your head is full of other people's rules and ideas makes sense. That negative attitude remaining present into your adult years, when you are the one that has the right and honestly, the responsibility to make the rules, is where a lot of depression comes from in my opinion.
So what now?
Again, those of you who are, or who have, worked with me know that I use myself and my experiences often as examples of what I am trying to explain. Let me do that here. When I was about 12, I was a total rebel who looked a lot like the guy in the image up there. I went to Catholic school at the time, which was a noble and honorable attempt by my parents to provide me with a good education. It backfired in that my parents had also raised me to be an individual and that didn't go over so well with Sister Mary Elizabeth at Sacred Heart elementary school. Or any of the nuns, really. The librarian, Sister Adele, (yes, I am naming names here!) told me one day that I "should learn to stop showing off about how smart I thought I was", and that "real people don't actually talk like that", in reference to my choice of vocabulary words, after I turned in a book report. Apparently I wasn't supposed to have understood it, or been able to articulate my opinion of it, in the manner that I had. Without either one of us realizing it, she planted a seed that grew into a giant weed in my mind that being intelligent and well spoken was somehow a problem, and as a result, I spent many years "dumbing down" to make other people more comfortable with me, or so I thought.
By the way, I still have that book report, it was on Langston Hughes "Not Without Laughter", and what that book was even doing in the library of Sacred Heart Elementary I have no earthly idea. It was a bit hyperbolic, but not out of bounds for a pretty smart seventh grade kid. Just for the record.
So what now?
Again, those of you who are, or who have, worked with me know that I use myself and my experiences often as examples of what I am trying to explain. Let me do that here. When I was about 12, I was a total rebel who looked a lot like the guy in the image up there. I went to Catholic school at the time, which was a noble and honorable attempt by my parents to provide me with a good education. It backfired in that my parents had also raised me to be an individual and that didn't go over so well with Sister Mary Elizabeth at Sacred Heart elementary school. Or any of the nuns, really. The librarian, Sister Adele, (yes, I am naming names here!) told me one day that I "should learn to stop showing off about how smart I thought I was", and that "real people don't actually talk like that", in reference to my choice of vocabulary words, after I turned in a book report. Apparently I wasn't supposed to have understood it, or been able to articulate my opinion of it, in the manner that I had. Without either one of us realizing it, she planted a seed that grew into a giant weed in my mind that being intelligent and well spoken was somehow a problem, and as a result, I spent many years "dumbing down" to make other people more comfortable with me, or so I thought.
By the way, I still have that book report, it was on Langston Hughes "Not Without Laughter", and what that book was even doing in the library of Sacred Heart Elementary I have no earthly idea. It was a bit hyperbolic, but not out of bounds for a pretty smart seventh grade kid. Just for the record.
| I believe that this is one of the main goals of therapy. And life. |
So if you seem to be grappling with an attitude that is making it difficult to get what you want, or to even figure out what it is that you want, I suggest spending some time listening to your head. Especially to the "shoulds" that your mind serves up to you, and to then spend some time figuring out whose voice it was that first put that rule there. Then if you need to, break it. If you need help, gimme a call. That's what we do in here.



