Posts tagged Respect
I was duped.
I thought that after many years, an issue had been resolved. Finally, once and for all, not to be an issue again.
You see, I was told from a very young age that if you could not add to something through monetary means, you needed to work your hardest, do your best and show whoever was “in charge” of you, that you were of value – hard-working, never backing down from a challenge, getting the job done. My family instilled this in me, and I always believed it to be true. It had served me well all my life; I was always considered to be a great worker and as my experience grew, one with leadership qualities and a fine work ethic.
When that mixes with a supervisor/boss who is a narcissist; one who has a truly fragile ego and must be the star of the show, you will have a toxic workplace. Nervously being at work every day – never knowing when you would be called to the “principal’s office” to be chastised and for what. The smallest incidents would blow up without warning, resulting in mayhem when it was least needed. In fact, I have been in this position several times throughout my careers.
When I say that I thought the issue has been resolved, I meant my internal issues. I was raised to be respectful. Yes, I am sarcastic with my humor, when I am comfortable with someone, I will share many laughs and comments, but I never want to be disrespectful – any one of my relatives would have eagerly given me a swift kick in the pants if I behaved badly. But my issue is truly wrapped around the respect I have for myself.
When I say I was duped, I did it to myself. My younger self did not possess respect for me to allow getting out of that situation quickly. Somehow, I continued to put myself in similar situations – a narcissistic boss who cannot handle someone who does what they say they have come to do, working well with people, and getting the job done. I finally realize that I need to respect the value I bring to the table, stand my ground and stop being disrespectful to myself.
And in that respect for me, I will not make apologies to the way I have worked, nor how easily I work anyone else, and the results achieved. Whether it is a 97% passing rate amongst my students on a final exam or completion of a business plan to help a startup, teaching business foundations to my balloon decorating competitors or becoming a published author, I will not allow someone to diminish me and everything I can do.
The old saying of “Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me” is to be considered at its face value – it will not happen again. For that, you can be sure!
Mother’s Day usually led to a conversation I had with my mom almost every year. The language of adoption. Some famous person who had adopted a child would pass away and the reporter would usually state something like “Her children, John and Mary and her adopted son, Fred” and my mom and I would be unnerved that there would be a differentiation made.
In 1965, a young woman, no more than 19 years old, gave birth to me. I do not know the circumstances surrounding her decision to give me up for adoption but that was to be part of my story. Adoption and acceptance have always been important to me. My parents always told me I was special and I knew from the very beginning that I was adopted.
But that is where it stayed. It was part of my story that differentiated me from friends, classmates and even cousins. A closed adoption made final in 1967, my parents were Mary and Ernie Parmel – my parents. No “adoptive” – I was not referred to as “adopted”. And to the days after my parents both left this earth, I was their daughter.
Laws may change, new information may be garnered, even sealed records can be opened. That doesn’t change the fact that my mom raised me to be the person I am today – as her own. A friend who was also adopted once said to me that we didn’t grow under their heart but in it.
One thing I know for sure, my mom (and dad too!) is up there watching out for me, shaking her head at the crazy things I get myself involved in, wringing her hands with the things I do that she would have told me not to. On Mother’s Day, I realize that she was right 99.9% of the time, she worried about me more than she needed to, and I know that “paper is thicker than blood”, a phrase we laughed at.
And one more thing on this Mother’s Day…
Mostly all the people in my life, over all these years have told me that today we celebrate women who are mothers, who wish to be mothers, women who have lost children, who have chosen not to have children and those who did not have the gift of their own children in their lives. Faces, names, known or unknown, women that have given up a gift of a child, conceived in any circumstance should also be celebrated for their ultimate sacrifice – so that someone may have a better life – the child and the family they are given to. I thank the woman who gave me life – I hope that one day, I can thank her in person.
But I have come across a few people that believe that if you do not have children or if you are not their mother, they shouldn’t wish you a Happy Mother’s Day; those people choosing to walk past someone while acknowledging another just steps ahead or behind them. Just stop and think sometimes if you are guilty of marginalizing someone like that – you don’t know how deep the hurt you cause can go. May those who do that never find themselves in the same position – or maybe it would give them pause for thought. After all, some of the deepest hurts are caused by three little words not being said. It is always three little words, right?
Happy Mother’s Day to everyone!
And I mean EVERYONE!!