The Truth Behind the Cliché

A Personal Journey to Discovery

I’m sure you’ve all heard the expression “You have to be happy with yourself before you can be happy with someone else”. If you are anything like me you scoffed at that and filed it away as something old people say. Of course you are happy with yourself! If there is one thing I’ve learned in life is that these “old people” don’t just pass a lot of gas, keep their teeth in a glass and spout out useless “wisdom”. Sometimes they are right, and even have a full set of teeth. I am writing this for a few reasons. So maybe people will think before judging an experience that they can’t relate to, so maybe people will look inward for real happiness, and for myself, to fully own my past, and my experience, and embrace it.

As a teenager and even into my twenties I ignored these wise words. If I’m honest with myself I have to admit, as many of you would too, that happiness came from others. From time spent with them, from the feeling of being loved. This doesn’t hurt, of course, but real happiness has to come from you and you alone. Some of you may look back and realize that you were never fully happy unless you had a partner, or the newest tech toy. When I look back I realize those external happy makers were temporary. I’m about to tell you MY views on why. I’m not a psychologist, or a mental health professional in any way, but some things I believe don’t require a university education, but just a little common sense and an ability to really own your own flaws and mistakes. If you’ve never made mistakes, or have never had problems owning them,congratulations! You are the elusive alien from another planet so many people hope to catch a glimpse of. Warning: I’m about to regale personal experiences. You may laugh, you may cry, you may relate.

As a result of my ignorance of this cliché , I jumped into relationships, most short lived. Why? Because I jumped in without getting the full picture. Because I didn’t love myself, I just wanted someone else to. This meant getting into a trend of dating men that did not treat me well. For a long time I thought I must have been doing something to deserve this treatment. This made me love myself less and less until one day a wonderful person came along. He was incredibly smart and to me, funneled this intelligence toward emotional weaponry, verbal abuse, and the silent treatment as a defense. I wondered in defense of what but learned as well that I was carrying too much of other people’s weight, but I digress. “Wonderful?” You ask. Yes. Wonderful. If not for the dark place this treatment took me to, I would never have finally admitted to myself that I needed councelling. Everything DOES happen for a reason. EVEN the men we later refer to with our friends as the “Jerk”, or whatever word you like best. For the sake of this article I am trying to avoid profanity, even if it does sometimes feel like it is much more suiting. Also, does calling them a string of swearwords change anything? Does it take away the pain? No.

My councellor was amazing. He had a way of asking what seemed like the simplest question that would reduce me to tears. I laugh as I type this because that really doesn’t sound like fun does it? However, these tears were breakthroughs. Making me think of things from a perspective I never had before. His first question that did this was “Can you forgive yourself for the things you believe are mistakes?” Sit on that one, think about it. One of my first questions to him was this: “If abusive men do not show this side of themselves in the beginning, how do women like me keep dating them?” His answer was that there is no definite answer, but one prevailing theory is that women ignore the red flags before them, and date men who treat them like they, on some level, feel they deserve to be treated. This resonated a little bit, but “came in like a wrecking ball” (Miley IS good for something!) later when I was laying in bed with my boyfriend at the time. I was laying beside him wondering if I was really happy, or just settling. This particular man wasn’t abusive, but just not the right fit. I was staying for the idea of what it could be, not what it was. This train of thought led me to thinking “Oh, maybe this is all I deserve.” Out of nowhere I started to cry. Full on body shaking, face leaking, blotched face, messy crying. Though he never said it, he probably thought it was insanity. I thought it was a breakthrough, and a little gross what with all the face leaking. From that moment on, I realized I was one of those women dating men that treated me like I felt like I deserved. From that moment on I vowed to pay more attention to my good qualities. One of the ways I did this was as often as I could remember to do it, I’d spend a few minutes of the day thinking about something I excel at, or am good at, or feel good about. Anything from my childhood ability to ride a unicycle — which then made me wonder if I chose the wrong career path, but that’s a different story- to the fact that I have and will continue to give food to, or buy groceries for, a homeless person on the street. Having had such a low self esteem this seemed unnatrual. It felt like I was being arrogant. Soon it felt more natural. There are still days where it is hard to praise myself, and it is hard to believe the best of myself or I feel like I should be sitting under South Park’s cloud of smug, but generally I realize it IS okay to be proud of yourself, like things about yourself, and praise yourself for those things. There is a definite line between confidence, and being so cocky people start suggesting you be a rooster next halloween.

I also realized that even before the councelling, I was on some level learning to love myself. I have friends, and people who aren’t so much friends, that I KNOW question my lifestyle, why I’m still single, and think to themselves “Wow, another of Shannon’s relationships didn’t work out, what a surprise.” Some of these people are even in my own family. I don’t judge them, or think any less of them for these thoughts. Their experience has been different than mine, and in THEIR experience, my lifestyle seems a bit extreme. Before I go farther let me sum up this lifestyle. I have moved a lot, to various cities in various provinces. I have dated. A LOT. I was sexually active earlier than most of my friends. The latter I will attribute to the lack of love for myself, but still a learning experience. I for a while smoked a lot of pot. A handful of times I tried extacy. ALL of these were roads to self discovery. Some have accused me of running. For me it was this thought: The world is huge, our country is huge. Just because I was born in this town doesn’t mean where happiness is for me. I wanted to see the country, and I wanted to be sure the city I settled in was one in which I could like my job, the people around me, and what the city has to offer. I was running INTO the unknown, toward something. I’m 35 and single. OH NO! Call cupid! I’ve been told about people’s cousins, nephews, grandsons, and friends. I’ve been given the pitying look and told “You’ll find someone one day.” or “You’ll find your happiness one day.” Please. Here is the truth. I AM happy, now. Throughout my travels in life I have seen places many people who stay close to home will never see. I have met people and learned about cultures I would never have otherwise. I have friends all over a very large country, and that is a great feeling. I have a photo album in my head so vast, and so varied, and at any time I can turn to any page and smile over the memories. I have lived, and I have paid attention to how I acted, reacted and who I was during every one of these experiences. They helped me understand and appreciate myself and also learn what exactly I need and want. Single at 35. Maybe single at 40. Maybe single forever, who can really say? But because I was honest enough with myself to admit that the cliche is true, I have every confindence that when I do finally meet someone worthy of committing my life to, I will BE respected, I will BE loved, and I will NEVER, no matter how it ends, be abused or let myself be abused. I will love them, seperate from me. There will be an “us” but that union won’t define me. In the meantime, I enjoy freedom and knowing that this union is an added bonus, not the means to being happy. I can get up and go whenever I want without consulting anyone else, packing up a diaper bag, or having to find a babysitter,for child OR husband. I kid, I kid. I listen to my friends talk about marital problems, some to the degree where I wonder why they are still married. I listen to people’s dating woes. Once a friend even admitted to me that she questioned my lifestyle but one day finding herself wishing she’d done more, dated more, even had sex more, before getting married. Listening to these things, as I currently don’t date much, I am reminded of the freedom and happiness I found within myself. Nobody can take it, and it only takes ME to make it.

My final thought is more of a request. I want you to ask yourself if you are truely happy with YOU. Not who you are with your partner, or your kids, or your posessions. Don’t just scoff and assume you are. Humour me and think about it, really think about it. Be honest with yourself. That honesty was a gift I gave myself; the BEST gift I have ever received. It was not always a pain free process because aknowledging where you could improve is sometimes hard and associated with weakness, but it was worth it. Maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there that with my words, will be motivated to give themselves this same life changing gift.