If You Smell Fire, It’s Probably Me Burning
You are not required to set yourself on fire to keep others warm.
Today is the third time in a week that this particular quote has come up for me in my daily reading or social media scrolling. When this happens, I usually give in and understand it as a sign from the universe; I take it as a message about something I am supposed to know or do that is somehow escaping me. This is one of the messages I understand well; however, the problem seems to be that the once blazing fire is proving rather difficult to smother. Much like that camp fire that burns well into the night, the embers are there — just below the surface. I think I’ve got the fire under control. I’m wrong.
Why is that? Why does the fire reignite when I’ve been stopping, dropping, and rolling for what seems like an eternity?
I think I know the answer and, ironically, it doesn’t make the problem any easier to solve. It might actually be more difficult because the problem is one I’m guilty of creating — maybe you are too. It’s rooted in this statement:
We teach people how to treat us.
Are you a people pleaser? Maybe approval is your thing? Is it a self-esteem issue rearing it’s ugly head? Do you want to be “the best” (of course you do — dumb question)? Do you have a need to make yourself invaluable to some person or some institution — to prove your worth? Do you have a habit of putting yourself last?
It could be any of these things; It could be all of these things. The fact remains that in chasing these magic little unicorns, I know I have a nasty habit of doing whatever it takes, even if it makes me miserable. Even if I am worn out and exhausted. Even if I am the only one in a several thousand mile radius who isn’t getting what she needs — the only one who keeps saying maybe when “X” happens, I will have time to focus on me. Because asking for what I need is an imposition. It’s weakness. Everyone around me is content, maybe even happy on occasion, and most of the time they don’t even look up long enough to notice that I’m a hot mess trying to keep it all together. And this is just how they see me now, because I’ve let it happen.
Yes — while I was out there, doing my very best Wonder Woman impersonation — I taught the people around me that I am, more or less, Shel Sliverstein’s The Giving Tree.
I felt like I was starting to disappear.
How might this show up in life?
It might be you doing the lion’s share of the chores at home. Because . . . That’s just what you want to do (Right — that’s it — scrubbing toilets is exactly what I wanted to do today).
It might be you, living your life for and vicariously through your progeny — just waiting for your turn (When is it your turn? Is it ever your turn?).
It can be you going out of your way to celebrate friends, family, colleagues, when they would rather do yard work or take a nap than celebrate you (You’ll understand, afterall, you know how busy life can be).
It might be the colleague for whom you will drop everything to help, yet he or she cannot be counted on to return the favor. I’d bet they may not even know what your are working on, the last piece you’ve written, or what you’d like to be when you grow up. And you can bet, when you are working late into the night, burning the midnight oil, because you are behind after taking time to do whatever it is they asked of you — they are sleeping soundly. When you grumble under your breath about how “he or she would never do this for me,” you are right!(mostly because he or she is putting their needs first. How novel a concept!) Take a note!
It might be working much harder and much longer than you have to or than is healthy for any human being (Hello, Teachers! Wait . . . you mean I can’t function long term on only 2 hours of sleep per night?).
It might be putting off work or play — the things you love — because it makes someone else uncomfortable, knowing you will suffer the consequences later.
It’s getting up extra early or staying up extra late to have time to “do you” — whatever that means — without complications or an argument. (Because sometimes it’s really just about you. That’s all. Nothing more. Why does it have to be something more?)
Maybe it’s as simple as not doing what you want or need to do — or doing a what you don’t want or need to do — for someone else.
It’s apologizing too much — or at least feeling like you have to.
Smothering the Embers
Once I realized that I was on fire and burning out, I think little by little I started to assert myself. I started to come back to life. Sounds good, right? It is indeed, but remember, change is uncomfortable and people kind of like being first. There will be resistance and discontent.
Now the battle becomes one of guilt or shame. And Brené Brown has schooled all of us in how powerful these two little beauties are!
Guilt because “you are responsible” for someone else feeling bad.
Guilt because you are not sacrificing for the benefit of another.
Guilt because you have the audacity to put yourself first sometimes and honor your needs too.
Shame because you aren’t doing what you are expected to do — you aren’t meeting the bar. Because your tune doesn’t exactly match. Maybe because you are no longer following the script that society has so generously laid out for you.
Shame because you are considered ineffective, inefficient, or — dare I say it — unsatisfactory because you have slowed the pace and, maybe stopped, to consider your wellness.
It’s exhausting. And you find yourself wanting to crawl back inside yourself because it’s just easier that way.
Don’t.
The only way you can give the best of yourself — in school, at home, in life, in love — is to do the best for yourself. This is not selfish — it’s self-preservation.
Because whether in work or in life, love is not suffering. That is martyrdom.
