Expectations

I wasn't going to do an entry tonight because I'm feeling quiet/sad.  I don't like when others have expectations of me that I can't fulfill.

My mother always expected me to be a "minnie me" of her.  She was outspoken and domineering.  I was timid, quiet, very sensitive.  I had a lot of friends as I was always outgoing that way but I lived in fear of any type of change.

When we were kids, my brother and I couldn't move in our house; no sitting on the couch, eating snacks in the livingroom; etc.  My mother followed us around constantly and made us pick things up as soon as they were set down.  She was a total neat freak.

I was always disorganized, scatterbrained, right hand never knew what the left hand was doing.  Still am, sort of.  Of course, it drove my mother crazy.  She would clean and reorganize my room, and I could never find a thing afterwards.  I resented it every time.

My biggest resentment was when I was around 12.  She "surprised" me one day by changing my room drastically.  I loved purple and pink.  I came home to a blue room with frilly curtains and bedspread to match and the ugliest blue shag carpet, which was the rage in the late 60's.  I was furious and didn't sleep in my room for months.

I am of the belief that there are two types of people in the world of organization....those that get it and are; those that are hopelessly disorganized.  I fall into the second category.  I still swear it has to do with spatial reasoning.  Math and science whizzes have brains that see things spatially.  People who excel in writing and English don't have a clue.  Of course, there are exceptions.

Then there's my anally organized, accountant BF.  Everything always where it should be.  Nothing is set down haphazardly.  I drive him nuts because I set stuff down without thinking and then spend so much wasted time looking for it.  That's just me.  Most times he will laugh but every once in a while makes some snide remark that cuts to the soul; like today.  So, I'll brush it off but all the remarks remain deep inside and resurface when another occasion arises and something is said.  I could make comments that I think sometimes he is over-the-edge obsessively organized but don't.  I accept him for who he is.  Why don't others, he included, accept me for my uniqueness?

I've made it my point in life not to make judgments.  We all excel at one thing or another.  That's what makes us unique individuals.  Why do some feel that everyone should live their lives in the way that they choose to live theirs?  I've also made it a very big point to allow my children space to be their own people.  They've all decorated their bedrooms any way they want.  My house is a home; one that all can feel comfortable in without being afraid to move lest they upset the order.  It's not always spotless but even when it is, it doesn't stay that way for long.  But one thing my home has which I rarely had when I grew up is the sound of laughter (and the bark of a dog or meow of a cat).

                                CHRIS