For many years, I was awash in curiosity about sociopaths and their behavior.
In my twenties, I jumped from one ill fated and doomed romance to another always stating these dumb ass responses for my behavior: He “should” love me. He “should” give me some kind of act right. He “should ” want to be a better human and I, of course, will show him the way.
Well this brought nothing but pain and sorrow and a bunch of wasted tears.
“I will teach you to be black”.
This statement should have been enough to make me run.
Instead I invested more than three years with a paramour who insisted that my upbringing was flawed and I needed to be reraised. I hung on long past the expiration date because I foolishly believed that with enough commitment and love things would improve.
My belief in people and their never ending lists of “shoulds” took over my mind.
Black men should love me because I loved them.
Still holding on to my belief that I would find a black man who wanted both me and mental health kept me in an arrogant state that suggested I could remake any man and they should appreciate and relish the opportunity to participate in their remaking.
As if someone sharing the righteousness and beneficial aspects of reracing me weren’t enough, there was also time spent attempting to rehab a person dual addicted who only needed me and my presence to get him to let go of the booze and drugs.
Partners “should” be kind. Partners “should” know what kindness looks like without me having to instruct or point out the shortcomings presenting themselves as adequate love expressions.
For many years, I tried to get people to change.
In my misguided youth, it was my personal goal to get folks to change their core being.
It never worked and all it did was cause me stress and upset.
One year of celibacy only lead me into more lunacy as far as men and what they ought to be doing.
“I’m heading to Chile to work with crack babies and join the resistance movement.”
A blond , green eyed project stated this to let me know in his own way that he was not willing to do his part in our reconstruction dance.
I would love to say that the fake resistance leader was enough to make me understand the riduculousness of my endeavors and move out ofthe fix-it business.
Unfortunately, it would take an additional twenty plus years to release that comforting and pathological chestnut.
Giving up the “shoulds” in life frees us up to do other things.
When you are not spending time worrying about what someone else should or shouldn’t be doing, you miss out on so much of life and what it has to offer.
So this year as people make resolutions and personal claims for improvement and change, I will move towards the acceptance that requires me to eliminate the word “should” from my vocabulary.
Instead of telling a person they should seek therapy when they offer me an amusing anecdote about their special gifts (I can sens e energy and talk to your dead relatives).
I will respond with: That sounds like a wonderful gift and if they come to me in a dream seeking help with entering our realm, I’ll be sure to reach out to you.