DO(N’T) BE DIFFICULT

I used to be really difficult to be around. I was emotionally volatile. I didn’t have a good sense of what to keep to myself and what to share. And my ability to self-soothe was severely lacking. Some of this was the result of my various mental health disorders (generalized anxiety, OCD and bouts of depression) and some of it was driven by insecurity and not having a positive self-concept. There was obvious work that needed to be done and I’m proud to say I did a lot of it. I’m a far better friend, partner and person than I used to be. This evolution, although overwhelmingly positive, has had an unexpected side effect. It’s made me judge myself for being human.

What I mean by this is that it is hard to go from the mindset of “I need to improve” to “no one is perfect.” In my mind, I am so vastly different from who I used to be that any reminder that I am not the most emotionally mature or even keeled person alive feels like an affront to my sense of self. I bristle at the thought that someone would think I am annoying or demanding or any of the descriptors I tried so hard to leave behind. But the truth is, I am allowed to be those things. I do not need to hold myself to standards I do not hold for anyone else.

One of the results of having grown up mentally ill is that I often felt like a burden. I longed to be “easy to be around” instead of a dark hole sucking up everyone’s energy. The problem is that no one can be that way all the time. In my head, I went from being a nightmare of a girlfriend in my 20’s to a stable, supportive partner in my 30’s. Somewhere along the way I decided that meant I couldn’t slip up. What I didn’t realize was I was already slipping up all the time. I get irritable. I’m an extremely picky eater. And I have a lot of rules based around my OCD. For all the work I have done, I am still not the easiest person to be with. And I’ve had to reckon with what that means. Or, perhaps more accurately, what I decide it means.

At first, I thought it meant I was still a fuck up. That I was lucky people were putting up with me despite my “quirks.”  But lately I’ve changed my mindset. I’ve decided that difficultness is a huge spectrum. I started in a place that made it hard for me to live my life and have adaptive relationships. So, I did a lot to inch my way toward the middle. People no longer need to walk on eggshells around me. I can handle discomfort better. And I have a more nuanced take on life. But I still have OCD. I still get riled up if I disagree with someone politically. And I still like to be in bed by 10 PM. I haven’t transformed into the chill, “cool” girl of my fantasies. What’s starting to change is that she is no longer my goal.

Part of being in a partnership, friendship or familial relationship is making accommodations for each other. Just because in the past I maybe asked for too much, doesn’t mean I’m now not allowed to ask for anything at all. Instead of getting defensive if my mom points out I’m getting irritable because I haven’t eaten, I can own my irritableness without it consuming me or destroying my new sense of self. I don’t need to waste time and energy trying to prove that I am better than I was before by having unrealistic expectations for myself. People get irritable sometimes! Especially when they’re hungry!

It has been so freeing to give myself permission to be difficult. To not feel like I have to defend myself against all complaints or observations about my less than perfect behavior or attitude. I’ve realized that being occasionally difficult doesn’t rob me of the right to be loved or cared for. Life is a give and take. I am entitled to take as much as the next person so long as I continue to give. I don’t view this new conceptualization as an excuse to give in to all my worst instincts or to backslide on all the work I have done. It’s more about allowing for wiggle room instead of self judgment. It’s letting myself have a bad day without assuming everyone will abandon me as a result. It’s giving myself the same grace I give to all the people I care about. Because, I must admit, there isn’t a single important person in my life who isn’t difficult in their own way. And I continue to love them (and myself) anyway.

xoxo,

Allison