Once upon a time in a life that now exists only in memories, there was a mother who loved her two kids very much. Neither child came with a manual, and, as could be expected with humans, mistakes were made. Sometimes epic ones that still affected them all long after the fairy tale haze wore off into present day reality.
However, as it does, greater good arrived out of the fallout. The children learned, grew, discovered therapy, and thrived into mostly healthy, functional adults (after all, too much good and not a little ornery makes for one dull story). One of them evolved into this blogger, who reflects today upon a saying her mother quoted every time she left the house: "Remember Whose you are."
Mom's primary function in life over the last thirty years or so existed as a Fundamental Independent Baptist (FIB? Wow, just put that one together but this isn't totally about religion this time, so I digress) musical evangelist's wife in a gospel band called Forever His. The Holy Trinity, the Bible, her husband, singing, and winning souls to Jesus endured of utmost importance to her. Thus, the most lasting, frequent thing she said to us growing up besides "I love you" was "Remember Whose you are" - any and every time we left her presence. Naturally, "Whose" referred to God in her mind; her not-so-subtle way of implying "God's gonna git you if you misbehave while you're away from me!"
We definitely took that into stride. At least I did, anyway (my brother is eternally better-skilled at getting away with shit than I am, so who knows what it actually means to him outside a random terse joke on the subject these days. Probably best to leave him further out of this for the sake of authenticity, come to think of it). I was God's. Forever. Always. And Mom's.
Throughout the years that saying "Remember whose you are" was carved deep into my soul, visiting my mind often. Most recently, I went through a (thankfully) congenial break-up of an off-and-on three-year romantic relationship. I suppose that phrase, during the on periods, unwittingly reminded me I was now Mr. X's girl and therefore should properly represent the three of us: him, me, and we. We lived together a year before finally admitting we desired incompatible futures and, if there actually is such a thing, decided to "consciously uncouple". Finding my own place and moving out happened a lot quicker than either of us imagined possible.
The heartbreak of remaining friends with your ex in a situation like this-? Majorly sneaky, unexpected, random emotional fallout after finding yourself suddenly alone again after a solid year of seeing/experiencing the same beautiful, peaceful soul day-in and day-out. All the fabulous internal/external routine took a fluctuation, then a full-stop hiatus. Then it waltzed right out of my day-to-day existence after the last box was packed and moved to a new location.
The relationship music stopped; I was alone. Deafening silence alone. My life no longer whirled, danced or oozed in and out of someone else's. Unpacking at my considerably smaller new place left plenty time for reflection. Mental and physical culling out and compartmentalizing, seeking where the remaining pieces were to fit into new life. Or not at all.
Whose was I now? I wasn't his anymore; I was just my own. Again. And that felt cavernously lonely.
Tears came and went, memories of my time with Mr. X flitted in and out of my consciousness. Friends popped by to socialize and drag me out of any potentially dangerous post-relationship depression. I wondered how Mr. X was handling the break-up, but whereas I wrote about it, he found comfort in a man-cave and mostly kept to himself to heal, a la Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.
The temptation to put myself on a dating website again to drown out the pain of recovering emotions presented itself. Especially late night after a few glasses of wine blurred my better judgment. However, in ageing wisdom I accepted burying my sorrows in another relationship before I've healed from the last was neither fair to any party involved, nor a healthy potential start to the next Whose I became. And frankly, I'm almost forty years old. I don't have time for that crap any more since I sincerely desire something lasting (know thyself, right?). Like a husband and children of my own built on a solid foundation, which takes time and a healthy soul to develop.
So I sat, and still sit, with the emotions. The pain. The questions. The what-if's. The scary newness. The tears. The vulnerability. Because sometimes we need to make friends with these seemingly less-than-desirables to find our way into why this all exists: to keep growing and evolving with more compassion as human beings.
And so it came to me today: the old Unity concept that we are all One, all an inexplicable, unshakable part of each other. We all come into each other's lives to teach each other in some way or another. Sometimes we leave, sometimes we stay, sometimes we revolve. Everything we do affects another, like the clichéd-to-hell-and-back ripples on a pond.
Perhaps the relationship music didn't stop - it crested from a violin solo into a full-blown orchestra. That had been playing all along; I only had too much selective, singular hearing and focus to remember it for a time. The dancing, whirling and oozing betwixt all of humanity, all of life, all of existence, intertwined forever, reminded me of Whose I Was again, upgraded 2.0: mine. And Everyone's.
So as this tale rides its way into a glorious sunset, just remember whose you are as well and live, laugh, love accordingly. Enjoy the bigger picture of life. I sure as hell plan to.
~SDC
INFJs – Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling Judgers – are the deep, compassionate intellectuals of the MBTI world. Making up just 1% of the population, this type is sourly misunderstood by most other types. They are the philosophical nurturers, the accidental counsellors and the extroverted introverts. In many ways, they are a series of internal contradictions. And sometimes it’s a struggle.
1. Being able to predict with eerie accuracy how a situation is going to play out, but being too polite to tell people that they’re making a mistake… so just keeping quiet and having to watch exactly what you thought would happen, happen.
2. Having zero interest in casual dating in a world that’s obsessed with flings and one-night stands.
3. The consistent, nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you that you’re not living up to your full potential.
4. Having much never met another person like yourself, since INFJs are (a) Only 1% of the population and (b) Usually inside reading a book.
5. The constant struggle of wanting alone time but feeling the uncontrollable compulsion to go make your loved ones happy.
6. Fooling everyone into thinking you’re an extrovert while you’re in public and then confusing the heck out of them when you don’t want to go out tonight because… well, you just don’t want to.
7. When pretty much all of your favorite people are fictional.
8. Not wanting to work for a corrupt, capitalistic society … but also needing to pay rent and eat.
9. When you want to go to sleep but your brain wants to stay up analyzing the great mysteries of the universe.
10. Having such a clear idea of something in your mind that it’s impossible to convey it using words, so you just talk around the concept for hours and end up making everyone more confused than ever.
11. Being just idealistic enough to conceive of a Utopian society but just realistic enough to understand all of the reasons why it could never exist.
12. When a conversation with someone doesn’t unfold the way you meticulously planned for it to in your mind.
13. Being in tune with absolutely everybody’s feelings except your own.
14. “Funny thing – I already watched our entire relationship play out in my mind. It ended in a painful divorce ten years down the road at which point I lost custody of our beautiful Dachshund Aristotle, whom I loved with all my heart. So no, I won’t be available to go out on a second date with you.”
15. Oscillating between revealing absolutely nothing about yourself to others and then revealing way too much and apologizing for it.
16. Actually, feeling the need to apologize for pretty much any emotion or need that you outwardly express.
17. Accidentally creating ridiculous standards for other people in your mind and then being disappointed when they fail to live up to them.
18. Hating conflict but having people constantly come to you with their conflicts.
19. When you finally find the nerve to open up to a loved one about what you’re thinking or feeling deep down – and then they still don’t get it.
20. Needing close relationships in order to be happy, but also needing a lot of alone time in order to be happy.
21. Being a magnet for self-destructive people and then dwelling on their problems ten times more than they do themselves.
22. Being intellectually gifted but also entirely out of touch with the world around you.
23. Being a compulsive people-pleaser in relationships because your partner being unhappy would actually feel worse than you being unhappy.
24. Kind of fitting in everywhere but really fitting in nowhere.
25. When you occasionally remember that the rest of the world doesn’t live life almost entirely inside of their minds – and honestly having no idea what that must be like.