Love/Hate

You can also file this one under the previous post's title... But it's before 11 and I don't have to get up until 6, so that's plenty of time to do a survey. Or meme, as the cool kids like to say*. Abby tagged me, and I must oblige. Here are my five things I love and five "areas for growth" as we in the euphemism world like to say.

LOVE IT:

• I am a good student. This encompasses some other things I like about me: I am a patient learner, I love the process of learning, I am curious, I am a good consumer of research, I think critically... I've decided to make formal education a major part of my life, and I can't see it being any other way (at least for a few more years).
  

• I can read people. I love psychology. I love studying relationships. I love seeing patterns of behavior in other people and in other relationships. I have been trained to pick up cues like rising inflection, body posture, inconsistencies in conversation, and to point those out and process them with clients. I can usually tell if someone is angry or frustrated or sad - not because I'm magical but because I've had the opportunity and guidance to practice doing these things. Sometimes it can get me into trouble, when I am overly perceptive around people with whom it's difficult to be objective (friends and family), but I still love my understanding of people.
  

• I don't often evaluate my physical self negatively. Despite being overweight, not meticulously plucking and painting on makup, not dressing in clothes from anywhere but Target and Old Navy... I'm pretty much totally fine with the physical me. I've never cried over a haircut, I've never not done something because of the way I think I look, and I pretty much never feel guilty for eating something "sinful" (I never say that some food is sinful, either). I've managed to see myself as beautiful, despite messages from society (and sometimes even the well-intentioned people I love**) that would encourage me to want to look different. I thank my mom for this one, for modeling self-acceptance and love.
  

• I'm a supporter. Not sure how to explain it, but I'm like the constant resident assistant. I bring breakfast to share with my classmates, I stick motivational post-its here and there, I clean and organize workspaces that haven't been touched in years. I volunteer for committees and meetings and leadership positions that need to be filled. I send treats to work with Jonathan to share with the office. I'm certainly not the only one to do these things, but I do them and I like that about me.
  

• I'm good with children. Jonathan tells me that it's because I don't treat them like kids; I treat them like small adults. He means that I show them respect. And I do respect kids - a lot. I take their thoughts seriously. I believe that they can feel joy, loneliness, a broken heart, and pride just as much as (and maybe more than) adults. I believe that they have stories worth hearing, jokes worth laughing at, pictures worth painting, et cetera. I'm getting all sappy here. I love kids. I love working with them and getting to be a part of their lives by giving them the time and space to finally, finally open up and share what's happening for them. Last week it happened for a kid I was with, who didn't want to talk but instead wrote that she "can't do [what I was asking] because she is stupid and she is a punk." Wow. Kids have stories. I love to listen and help them make sense of their worlds.
  

NOT SO MUCH:

• It's difficult for me to see the good in myself. Take, for example, this post. I immediately came up with one thing I loved about myself, and couldn't come up with anything else. So I skipped to the "hates" and here I am waiting to think of something else that's good. My self-doubt gets in the way sometimes, and I'm working on this. (See, that's why we call it an area for growth. Oh, reframing, how I love the perspective you provide.)

• I catastrophize. And intellectualize. Those are the two cognitive distortions that trap me. So when one small thing goes wrong, I figure that the end of the world is approaching. No, not literally. Figuratively. I freak all the way out sometimes, ignoring the logical and rational part of my brain that is trying to point out the flaws in my thinking. I also tend to separate myself from what's happening when things get too intense for me by intellectualizing - basically turning off the emotions and processing what's happening in a cold manner. Weird, when you think of it... these are two extremes on the same continuum.
  

• I'm not so great at small-talk. I have this thing about pointless conversation. It grates on my nerves. I can fake it and smile and chat about the weather with the best of 'em, but I can't carry it on for long. It makes meeting new friends challenging at times. Lucky for me I have built-in friends at school.
  

• I don't sing or play an instrument... which makes me an odd duck in my family. I try to compensate by obsessing over song lyrics and how songs can capture my moods so completely and take me to certain memories and moments in time - but that all sounds very fourteen-years-old of me.
  

• I take it personally. Maybe it's because I'm always hyper-focused on people and their relationships and their words and actions and thoughts, or maybe it's my own insecurities. But I let little pieces of criticism or an off-hand comment color an entire day, week, or month. Luckily I don't do this with school-related things so much anymore, which has allowed me to be open enough to take risks and learn. But I do in every other domain. I remember learning a useful way to conceptualize criticism and how people react to it: Imagine that your self-esteem is a balloon, and every compliment or success or positive thought you have about yourself adds a puff of air to the balloon. For some people, one critical comment or failure or negative thought will just take a little bit out of the balloon. It's still there, just a tiny bit smaller. For other people, that comment is a needle that pops the balloon. Suddenly, the good things have disappeared. I'm a needle person.
  

*I'm not fully convinced that we can call it a meme, based on my preliminary wikipedia research. But I suppose it doesn't fit the true definition of a "survey" either. Perhaps it's an open-ended probe. But that just sounds odd.

** But never Jonathan. Thanks hun.