“He who exhibits no faults is a fool or a hypocrite whom we should distrust.” – Joubert
I have been a people-pleaser for as long as I can remember. In my desperate quest for the love and acceptance of my peers when I was a child, I learned the kinds of people other people like to be around, and tried to become one of those people. I found out how much I disliked being around complainers and whiners, back-biters and braggers, and determined I would never do any of those things. Which might all be good things to try to avoid, but my motivation was all wrong. To be loved and accepted by other people was the idol I bowed to, again, and again, and again.
I learned how to hide my feelings and deny my desires and to do and be and say exactly what I thought the other person or people in the room wanted me to do and be and say. I became quite good at lying and speaking in half-truths and not speaking at all, even when what I had to say really needed to be said. And when I lied, it was with what I thought was the noble, self-sacrificing attitude of a martyr. Yeah, I was lying by denying what I really wanted or liked, but I had honestly deceived myself into thinking it was okay because I was letting the other person have what they really wanted or liked and they didn’t even have to feel guilty about the sacrifice I was making for them.
Guess what, Mel… There’s no such thing as a noble lie.
I weaved a web of lies and deceit and lost myself in the process. Who is Melanie Coe, really? I don’t even know.
So because I don’t want to be a fool, or a hypocrite, these are my most glaring faults, in a nutshell:
I’m proud.
I’m a liar.
I’m not a very good wife.
I’m a pathetic mother.
I’m lazy.
I’m weak.
I’m exceedingly selfish.
I’m a really good faker.
I know these words sound like the words of someone who is feeling persecuted and sorry for herself, but I’m not feeling either of those things, actually, not at all. It’s freeing and cleansing to have the ugliness that’s inside me exposed to the light of day. Here you go, God. These are the ashes of my life. Please, by Your infinite grace, make something beautiful out of them and bring glory to Your name.
(The photo came from the internet, and the beginning quote came from Fred’s blog.)
I have been a people-pleaser for as long as I can remember. In my desperate quest for the love and acceptance of my peers when I was a child, I learned the kinds of people other people like to be around, and tried to become one of those people. I found out how much I disliked being around complainers and whiners, back-biters and braggers, and determined I would never do any of those things. Which might all be good things to try to avoid, but my motivation was all wrong. To be loved and accepted by other people was the idol I bowed to, again, and again, and again.
I learned how to hide my feelings and deny my desires and to do and be and say exactly what I thought the other person or people in the room wanted me to do and be and say. I became quite good at lying and speaking in half-truths and not speaking at all, even when what I had to say really needed to be said. And when I lied, it was with what I thought was the noble, self-sacrificing attitude of a martyr. Yeah, I was lying by denying what I really wanted or liked, but I had honestly deceived myself into thinking it was okay because I was letting the other person have what they really wanted or liked and they didn’t even have to feel guilty about the sacrifice I was making for them.
Guess what, Mel… There’s no such thing as a noble lie.
I weaved a web of lies and deceit and lost myself in the process. Who is Melanie Coe, really? I don’t even know.
So because I don’t want to be a fool, or a hypocrite, these are my most glaring faults, in a nutshell:
I’m proud.
I’m a liar.
I’m not a very good wife.
I’m a pathetic mother.
I’m lazy.
I’m weak.
I’m exceedingly selfish.
I’m a really good faker.
I know these words sound like the words of someone who is feeling persecuted and sorry for herself, but I’m not feeling either of those things, actually, not at all. It’s freeing and cleansing to have the ugliness that’s inside me exposed to the light of day. Here you go, God. These are the ashes of my life. Please, by Your infinite grace, make something beautiful out of them and bring glory to Your name.
(The photo came from the internet, and the beginning quote came from Fred’s blog.)
2 comments:
Welcome to the human race. I love your confession, but I must say, compared to my list it is a rather short one. This business of living is a difficult affair, I love that quote, so true. From what I've read the thirties are the time when we begin self examination and start seperating the wheat from the chaff. So, you are right on track. Usually, they say, by the time you hit your forties things are taking shape pretty well and you begin to like yourself more. That was true in my life although I am a late bloomer. Take heart Mel. you are in good company with the shortcomings you listed. These are common to mankind and I suspect you will make quicker progress than I have in finding out who you are, and then, when you do, I think you'll find you kind'a like yourself.
Fred
Thanks for the encouragement, Fred. It means a lot to me.
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