It’s a funny thing, adulthood. Nothing really prepares you for the importance of that responsibility. We fumble through it, tripping over pearls of wisdom or the cracks of white lies, but hopefully learning as we go. We take our beliefs and our passions and whisk them together with our experience in life, loss, and love. Then we bake it and it oddly turns into some sort of truth or fact.
Then, knowingly or not, we push these “facts” on into our children either verbally or through our actions. Nobly, we use our trademarked wisdom to ensure others do not have to go through what we did. But at the same time, are we creating a different set of problems? Does a Mother who was abused teach her daughter not to trust? Does a Father who was beaten if he cried – tell his son to “stop being a girl?”
Does this daughter and son grow up and in turn push, this same thinking on their children? Perhaps in some other format? Or do they purposely rebel against it?
The ripple effect of our actions is not only widespread but can be buried deeply. So deeply, in fact, we don’t even know where it comes from.
Its most raw example is when “secrets” turn into conversations. We have seen the rebellion of “facts” for example, in the fight against gender biases. In our lives, we have borne witness to some of the most beautiful, breathtaking moments when simply ask “Is this still true?” We ask better questions, we challenge our beliefs and if we are graceful enough, at the very least we respect those with a slightly different spectrum of opinion.
It is in simply asking “Is this still true?” that you are giving permission to question yourself, to reflect on what is behind the belief? To admit that maybe you are holding onto ideas just because you always have. I would go so far as to say that perhaps they may not have never been true, but that’s for another time.
Does the son who cried help redefine what masculinity means? Does the daughter who doesn’t trust teach her child to love openly? Do these “facts” become new wounds or are they scars that create stories of resilience, courage, and love?
What we think and believe matters, not only to you but to the generations that follow you. So, what will be in your wake? What beliefs do you hold onto that simply may not be true?
They can be as simple as “I have two left feet and therefore cannot possibly dance at my son’s wedding.” or as deep as “what do I really love about my partner?” Know, that in this rawness, you will find many more amazing things than you find scary.
You deserve to know that every belief in your heart and soul belongs there fully.
What a great post, Sarah.
One of my friends voiced a conundrum so succinctly: “I am a gay man of my time.” With that insight he realized that the defensiveness he had learned he needed to carry with him was different from what gay men in the younger generation experienced. Thus, some reactions to his triggers might no longer be neither appropriate, nor necessary.
I am a woman of my time. Sometimes the stories I tell myself are no longer the only stories possible and I can chose to be curious.