Burn Bridges? Blow them up I say!
As middle-aged women, many of us were brought up to be that “good girl”. We were taught that it was the most important role we can play. Keep the peace. Operate in the shadows. Don’t rock the boat. Many of us sought status through our looks or our level of social acceptance. Academia, sporting ability all seemed secondary.
While time has brought us the advantage of questioning that stance and many of us are bringing up our daughters to have more of a voice than we did, people pleasing is still rife amongst women. That need to be the “good girl” is definitely part of the narrative of many middle aged women.
I’m not a people pleaser. I’m not sure I ever was but I am definitely not one now. I hold my own opinion first. I am first and foremost the judge and jury of my own behaviour and I am ruthless. I don’t let myself off and I keep a very fair score card. If I pass my own test, if I have behaved according to my values – with kindness and fairness, if I have lived according to my purpose, then I will justify my words and actions. I will own my behaviour and my words 100%. Marcus Aurelias said, “Be tolerant with others and strict with yourself.” I love that Stoic idea of judging yourself more harshly and I try to be as tolerant as I can of others but there comes a point – where tolerance meets bullshit where you just have to call it a day. That day becomes the explosion.
I am not setting out to hurt anyone, but if I do and I have passed my words and actions through the above lens, then so be it. I will not only burn that bridge I will denotate explosions. Other’s opinions are always welcome, but their judgements are not. I am best placed to judge my words and actions, and I do so constantly. Caring about people, but not giving a rat’s arse about their opinion is a very powerful place to be. Setting off the explosions, while sometimes painful is like igniting a light within. A good light. Owning your own space, owning your narrative and accepting that not everyone is with you for the whole journey is more empowering than anything else I have experienced.
In return I have found curiosity instead of judgment (mostly). I have trimmed the leaves from the tree and grown a sturdier trunk. My friendships are not about longevity (although I am fortunate enough to have two very close friends who have been with me for most of my life), they are about who I really want and value in my life and who wants me in their lives. I feel less used and more valued. Less sought for what I can offer and more sought for who I am. I feel like I have permission to be my authentic self (even though the only permission I need is my own). I feel seen and heard. Isn’t that what every person really wants. For how can we truly connect if we aren’t being our authentic selves?
Of course, sometimes I don’t pass my own test, and I haven’t been as kind as I should have been, or my delivery was off, and I offer up genuine and real apologies. Real friendships that have depth and meaning can survive these moments, but some don’t. It can be as simple as the friendship has past its used by date and that’s ok. I make a point of honouring those friendships as having been an important part of my life. No different to ex partners really. Just because it ended doesn’t mean it wasn’t important or valid or special. It just isn’t anymore. I honour the time and importantly the bonds and secrets we shared. I usually don’t discuss the endings – I don’t need approval on who I decide I want in my life – I just let them float away.
Then of course come the ends where you set the explosion on the bridge. I had one of those recently. It was pretty monumental and part of me wanted to just glide under the bridge and let it go but my sense of justice and truth wouldn’t let me and I’m glad. I owned my narrative and stood true to my values. I offended a couple of people in the process and I’m pretty sure the bridge is in a thousand pieces, but my lens was clear. I was justified and it needed to be called out. So now I walk away into the sunrise with a smile on face and a light step, because I spoke and acted in accordance with my purpose and true to my values. I was authentic. I was also able to be proud of how I responded, not 100% - there were definitely things I could have done better but I owned every part of my behaviour, and my head is high. My body felt lighter once I spoke my truth which is an indication that it needs to be said.
In the end – if we can look in the mirror and honestly see who we are, take responsibility for our actions and be proud of our journey. That sense of ease is pretty much everything.
