When did I become “that” woman? (Updated)

catty women
(see update below) You know the person…snarky, bitchy, unpleasant to be around…that’s me. I found myself saying “I’m just not a nice person” (then I wonder “Was I ever?”). In my post I am a chameleon, I talk about my ability to blend in to my surroundings, having never really learned who I am. Sometimes the blending becomes absorbing, and if I spend too much time with one type of person I tend to take on that persona.

From a very young age I was trained to be charming and witty, perfect wife material for a lawyer or some other high muckety-muck (my mom didn’t want me to marry a doctor like she did-life’s too unpredictable). At my step-daughter’s wedding reception a couple days ago, I proved I still had it in me. Nevermind the fact that I was actually able to cope with a very large number of adults and children whom I didn’t know (social anxiety be damned!), I was also able to interact with them all in a way that would have made my mother proud.

But then during my nightly rehash which prevents me from falling asleep every night, I thought about all the things I said/did wrong or stupidly. That’s when I realized that around certain friends and family members I’m not a very nice person, and I don’t like who I’ve become (or have I always been this way and am just now noticing it?). So it’s time to evolve once more.  I’m starting DBT today, which entails learning mindfulness, and I’m hoping I’ll be able to learn to think before I speak. I’m hoping I’ll be able to become that other woman, the one people enjoy being around.

Update: Shortly after I posted this, I learned I am simply human. I accept who I am, with the caveat that I will try to be a better person. I understand there will be days that will be good, and days that will be bad, but I will never stop trying.

balanced
Originally posted by Rantings of a Beautiful Mind on FaceBook

Finally, I Am Who I Am

I kept my married name after my divorce to avoid confusion while my girls were in school. I’ve always wanted my name back, but when we moved to Ohio, I found that I had to wait a year before I could file for a name change. The day came and I filed all my paperwork and received a court date for about three months later.

The appearance before the judge to answer some routine questions was uneventful, but when he said that my name change was now accepted into the records, I was overcome with surprising emotion. When I retrieved the certified copies of the order from the judge and he shook my hand, I had to choke back the tears. The relief I felt at shedding the last vestiges of my abusive past came as a shock to me. I couldn’t help grinning while tears inched down my face all the way back to the car and on the way home.

I never really liked my last name. Growing up it was the butt of several jokes, I still don’t particularly care for it, but it is my family name and I am grateful to have it back.

The value of identity is of course that so often with it comes purpose. ~Richard R. Grant