Loving yourself when people around you don't is one of the hardest things I've had to do. I make it sound like I've learned it already but I know I haven't. In fact, I'm not even close.
I grew up in a large family of an uncle, an aunt, grandparents, cousins and of course my immediate family of parents and sisters. I recall an extremely happy and content childhood. My family that lived in a downtrodden Muslim locality took immense pride in valuing education over everything else.
My father who grew up in a patriarchal environment thought it wasn't necessary for my mother to work. He did come around later. But it was my grandparents doing that my mother earned two master's degree and ended up being a very loved and respected teacher, also an expert in English grammar. My father, a banker, stuck between his patriarchal upbringing and the immense love for the three daughters that were born to him was a disciplinarian. But most days his love (read sheltering) gave us a pretty comforting and loved childhood.
My very patient and understanding mother never coddled us. She never had the time to do it. She was what some would today call a superwoman--the one who managed an impatient husband, difficult in-laws, three willful girls and all the house chores. I would say she did a good job of it but I do not necessarily applaud her feat. I don't blame her either because she did not have a choice.
But speaking of family, it would be incomplete to not talk about my grandfather who played an important role in our upbringing. He was the one who set the narrative. He made it very clear that he liked the grandkid who won accolades. And for him the bar for accolades was pretty low, I'd say. He would go hours talking about my sister's break dance performance which actually involved just three steps through the entire song. When I wrote an essay on Mahatma Gandhi in grade 7, he called up his friends to inform them of my so-called feat. It'd be fair to say he exaggerated our little achievements to the degree that we felt we were rock stars (at least some of us did).
That's how I grew up. A good deed always got rewarded in words, often repeated for years in front of every guest who ever turned up. I'm pretty sure some people stopped coming over after a while.
My grandfather did pass over some of his traits down to his family. My parents were very observant and always generous with praise. My chore in the house was to clean the kitchen platform after dinner and my mother appreciated my style of work so much that it almost made me work twice as hard. Needless to say, the kitchen was always sparkling clean.
A few years later we grew up and moved out. Out there in the world, it became clear that not every good deed is wholeheartedly appreciated and there are absolutely no points for trying. Jobs, bosses, relationships, roommates threw at me facts I did not know about myself. I didn't know I was self-centred. I was told I get bored too soon. Someone said I don't try hard enough, or I'm not good enough. I adapted and learned a lot of things once I moved out, but nothing prepared me for loving myself without other people's approval. Approval was necessary, approval was basic. How else do you validate yourself!
I did survive good, bad and horrible people. I made it through most difficult heartbreaks. And every time I thought the experience was training me to be a stronger person the next time it hurt harder. It took me a while to figure out that I had a constant need for validation. Moving to newer cities, meeting different people made me realize that it was possible to live without validation. Some people did it so gracefully I almost envied them.
I struggle with it to date. It upsets me when people around me are cold to me. I'm disappointed when I do something nice and it goes off without a word of acknowledgement. I can't deal with a judgment that exists without dialogue. I know that I should learn to love myself first and not seek for external validation, but I don't quite know how to do it.
I am aware the world is not full of people like my grandfather. I understand the only possible way to overcome this is to move on and not care so much. Theoretically, my problem statement and solution are pretty clear to me. But practically, it's still the biggest struggle of my life.
I grew up in a large family of an uncle, an aunt, grandparents, cousins and of course my immediate family of parents and sisters. I recall an extremely happy and content childhood. My family that lived in a downtrodden Muslim locality took immense pride in valuing education over everything else.
My father who grew up in a patriarchal environment thought it wasn't necessary for my mother to work. He did come around later. But it was my grandparents doing that my mother earned two master's degree and ended up being a very loved and respected teacher, also an expert in English grammar. My father, a banker, stuck between his patriarchal upbringing and the immense love for the three daughters that were born to him was a disciplinarian. But most days his love (read sheltering) gave us a pretty comforting and loved childhood.
My very patient and understanding mother never coddled us. She never had the time to do it. She was what some would today call a superwoman--the one who managed an impatient husband, difficult in-laws, three willful girls and all the house chores. I would say she did a good job of it but I do not necessarily applaud her feat. I don't blame her either because she did not have a choice.
But speaking of family, it would be incomplete to not talk about my grandfather who played an important role in our upbringing. He was the one who set the narrative. He made it very clear that he liked the grandkid who won accolades. And for him the bar for accolades was pretty low, I'd say. He would go hours talking about my sister's break dance performance which actually involved just three steps through the entire song. When I wrote an essay on Mahatma Gandhi in grade 7, he called up his friends to inform them of my so-called feat. It'd be fair to say he exaggerated our little achievements to the degree that we felt we were rock stars (at least some of us did).
That's how I grew up. A good deed always got rewarded in words, often repeated for years in front of every guest who ever turned up. I'm pretty sure some people stopped coming over after a while.
My grandfather did pass over some of his traits down to his family. My parents were very observant and always generous with praise. My chore in the house was to clean the kitchen platform after dinner and my mother appreciated my style of work so much that it almost made me work twice as hard. Needless to say, the kitchen was always sparkling clean.
A few years later we grew up and moved out. Out there in the world, it became clear that not every good deed is wholeheartedly appreciated and there are absolutely no points for trying. Jobs, bosses, relationships, roommates threw at me facts I did not know about myself. I didn't know I was self-centred. I was told I get bored too soon. Someone said I don't try hard enough, or I'm not good enough. I adapted and learned a lot of things once I moved out, but nothing prepared me for loving myself without other people's approval. Approval was necessary, approval was basic. How else do you validate yourself!
I did survive good, bad and horrible people. I made it through most difficult heartbreaks. And every time I thought the experience was training me to be a stronger person the next time it hurt harder. It took me a while to figure out that I had a constant need for validation. Moving to newer cities, meeting different people made me realize that it was possible to live without validation. Some people did it so gracefully I almost envied them.
I struggle with it to date. It upsets me when people around me are cold to me. I'm disappointed when I do something nice and it goes off without a word of acknowledgement. I can't deal with a judgment that exists without dialogue. I know that I should learn to love myself first and not seek for external validation, but I don't quite know how to do it.
I am aware the world is not full of people like my grandfather. I understand the only possible way to overcome this is to move on and not care so much. Theoretically, my problem statement and solution are pretty clear to me. But practically, it's still the biggest struggle of my life.
2 comments:
It was pleasure reading this :-)
Great reading.
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