Detour Ahead

Once upon a time one of my college roommates had been taking a psych class and came back to our dorm room and told me that while learning about stress/reactions/and subsequent compensations that she'd felt compelled to announce to her professor and class mates that, in her 18 year old mind, I was one of the most well-adjusted people she knew...

???

"Ummm, thanks, I think."

And what brought all that on? Well, she was a pampered, only daughter born to two loving, older, affluent, long married people. I was the product of a divorce, an abusive father, and while we never viewed ourselves as poor (we simply didn't have any money...) I was, in my opinion, way too familiar with what welfare/USDA powdered eggs and bland block cheese tasted like. When Mom finally remarried, the new, well to do step-father had a hard time accepting the fact that a sixteen year old step-daughter was part of the package. When it came to college I was on my own financially, scraping thru with a combination of scholarships, grants and part time jobs. From my roommate's sheltered point of view I was a veritable tower of strength, resourcefulness and resilience.

I, of course, was aware that I was not unique. While there were people who had it better than me, there were far more who had been dealt a much worse hand.
I've always taken seriously the old saying, "God helps those who help themselves." While I'm not above asking for assistance when I need it my first recourse is usually to put my shoulder to the wheel and push. An amazing amount of things happen when you try. And being a pragmatic sort, I've always figured kicking a dead horse was a wasted effort, besides the which, you're likely to hurt your toe if you keep after it.

Back to that, shoulder to the wheel thing... I'm constantly astounded by the people who don't/won't/refuse to try. They hold out their little paws and expect manna from heaven to drop into them. And when it doesn't, they fall to the ground, drum their little heels on the floor while sobbing and gashing their teeth.

It is a sight to behold.

And even more interesting is watching the people who rush to their aid. While I applaud the "do-gooders" intent, I'm likely to raise an eyebrow, step calmly over the mess and continue on my way. Unfortunately that response is never seldom popular with the rescuers and the 'not responsible for themselves' crowd.

Recently I was part of a conversation where someone earnestly explained to me why her life was out of control and she reassured me that I didn't know and couldn't understand what she was going through, because I had always had it "so good."

She was right, about me being good that is... (and yes, I understand that is totally not what she meant) 'cause I sat right there, kept my mouth shut and refrained from telling her that she could "have it good" too if she'd put her shoulder to the wheel or better yet - her foot up someone's backside and tell the adult free loaders in her life, "NO." Then stop enabling them and let them grow up.  I've had it "good" because I've tried (with some success) to make sure that entitlement is not a ship that has sailed from my house and if my kids want to catch it they're going to have to get on at a different port.

Do things always turn out as I plan?

Ohhh, well. We all know the answer to that, eh?

But, when, after our best efforts, the cake falls - what's to do?

There are always options. And Princess, this is for you. "My way, now and I don't care how much it costs..." Well, yes, you can play it that way. However, the reoccurring theme in a training class I once took was, "Pick the hill you want to die on." Keeping that in mind, maybe you'll want to look in the closet at a new game.

It's called compromise.
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