I Wasn't Myself This Morning

Until this morning, I'd forgotten the extent to which books influenced me as a child.

When I was little, books weren't just a pastime for me, they were...bodily organs? When I was reading a Little House on the Prairie book, there was something fundamentally different about me as a human than when I was reading Beezus and Ramona or one of the Betsy-Tacy books. The kind of book I was reading temporarily reshaped my...something. My brain? My soul? I was still Me, but I was Me as if I were living in the late 1800s in the Dakotas/1950s Portland/Deep Valley around the turn of the century. The words of my thoughts would change; the plans I had for my days would change.

It was like inhabiting a different version of myself. It was inspiring and refreshing. It was nice to get a break from being Regular Me and become a Book Me—like the seasons changing. We're all a little excited when the seasons change because it's something different. We wear the clothes we haven't worn in a while, do the activities we remember from years past. It's just different. That was what being a Book Me felt like.

It also made me try out different ways of living. When I read some books, it made me set my alarm early and get my chores done right away. When I read other books, it made me a more responsible big sister—even a little tired of the childish antics I'd employed the day before.

The Book Mes that I became were always very...respectable, which is so surprising to realize because I never actually cared about being respectable. I was always more interested in thieves and rogue heroes. The characters I wrote stories about were never "respectable." However, when I would wake up as a Book Me, it was always a Book Me who got things done and held her head high and spoke clearly and wanted to be efficient and good.

I'm baffled. Somehow, counter to everything I think and have thought about myself, I must've found "good" characters the most compelling and worthy of being emulated.

Of course, that's exactly why we want children to read good literature. We want them to be inspired by the good and right. We want the good and right to be so compelling that it molds children into better people.

I guess I just never realized that it actually WORKS.

I was suddenly, vividly reminded of Book Mes today as I read an Agatha Christie novel over breakfast. I wanted to keep reading, but I had finished my food and thought, in a very Gudgeon-the-butler sort of tone, "Yes, well, one doesn't always get to do what one wants, does one?" and I got up and started clearing the table. It was pretty easy to make myself do it, and that's when I realized with a shock:

For the first time maybe in years, I'd become a Book Me again. I'd become a brisk, dutiful, mildly cheerful servant who knew what life entailed and had quite made peace with it. I felt like I could do my day, when just moments ago the tasks before me had felt a little dark and heavy. I had had the vague impression that maybe I was going to try to get out of as many things as I could.

But that impression wouldn't have occurred to the servants and noble people of the Agatha Christie novel, and so, when I became Book Me, the impression evaporated for me too.

I've read hundreds of books in the last 10+ years, but I can't remember the last time I became a Book Me. I can tell you for sure that none of the thriller mysteries I've read have transformed me. None of the YA fantasy I've read lately has transformed me. None of those books felt like a bodily organ inhabiting my person and triggering an alternate version of myself.

Even as an almost-thirty-year-old, it's still the old, classic literature that transforms me.

In the words of Ross Geller saying the wrong name again, "Gah, what IS that?"

Is it really that there's something enduring and magical about older, well-written books? Maybe it's the same kind of magic that inhabits the real Statue of David compared to the copy in the Duomo Square. You can feel that. The copy is not the same, and it's downright eerie.

Maybe classical educators really are onto something when they insist that children read old classics. If they could inspire a little wannabe villain like me to get up at 7:00 and sweep, they're capable of almost anything good.

I like the Book Mes so much. I'm going to see if I can hold onto this one, a least a little bit longer.

~Stephanie

The Missing Element

At dinner the other day, Rachel talked about examining the stories she's written to see if there was an element or theme that appeared in all of them. She found that there was. Naturally, I wanted to see if that was true for me too.

"Older brothers" was the first idea that came to mind, but as much of a chokehold as that trope has had on me for my entire life, I immediately knew that wasn't it, because there is no older brother character in the Fire Faery Story.

I sat down with my journal and two lists: one list of all the stories I could think of off the top of my head, and one list of all the elements/themes I thought might be The One. I assigned symbols to the elements/themes, and wrote them next to the stories they applied to.

None of the elements appeared in every single story, though some came close, like "something is wrong with the powers that be" and "magic." However, 90% of what I've written has been YA fantasy, and those are like the bread and butter of the genre. I also traced "relationships that don't/can't work," but that wasn't every time either.

I put the exercise aside with the intention of mulling it over more later. There abso—

—ohhh, wait, is it the "found family" trope?* Mmmmm not quite. Fire Faery Story and many others, yes, but not The Mirror or The Virtue Chronicles or Powers Story.

Anyway. I put the exercise aside. I wasn't thinking about it at all when I was walking around the apartment complex and a thought hit me:

There are no couples in the Fire Faery Story. It's not just devoid of, like, teenagers who are "together"; I mean NO CHARACTERS ARE DATING OR MARRIED**. Even the adult characters are like single, widowed, etc. No one has a significant other.

I couldn't believe I'd never noticed this before. It wasn't an intentional choice; I had never even noticed. I just hadn't met any characters in my head who were married or together...ever.

Gabe's theory was that as a kid, I was still exploring the concept of relationships, so subconsciously, I didn't feel qualified to write about them. But how much do you really need to understand about relationships to throw in "oh and this man has a wife" or "oh and this character has both parents." Most of the adults I knew as a kid were married. Most of my friends had both parents living with them at home. My subconscious had plenty enough fodder for a cursory couple to EXIST IN MY WORLD?!

It was several hours later, while stir-frying chicken, that another thought hit me and I froze, wooden spoon hovering over the pan.

It's not just the Fire Faery Story that is devoid of couples.

It's ever story I've ever written.

No one is dating. No one is married. Single, widowed, widowered, mom's dead, dad's dead, both parents are dead. Usually there's some kind of secondary romance plot for my main character, but 1) it's conspicuously, intentionally, almost-breaking-the-fourth-wall-level secondary, and 2) it doesn't work.

Is that The Thing? Is that the element that's present in every one of my stories?

Well, first of all, yes. But does it count as The Thing if it's something missing instead of something present? And is that...really it?

What would that mean?

This post is a result of texting my parents about the revelation and ending the conversation with "Maybe I'll blog about it and see what happens."

My dad reminded me that as a kid, I had asked him why there were so many songs about being in love. To me, romance is still the least interesting quality of relationships. It's genuinely boring to me, like someone showing me pictures of their cat***. Like, I'm happy for you, but I really don't care.

"Romance" is different from love though. Even if I avoided "romance," I should still be able to have, like, John and Jane Doe living together in the periphery of the story, right?

I don't think it's a head-heart conflict either, which was my dad's first theory. I'm heart-repressed as an Eight, sure, but I'm other-people's-Feelings dominant in MBTI.

Since I haven't written any new stories or characters since I started self-discovery and personal growth work, I guess it's possible that if I were to write something new now, it would have a couple in it. Maybe maybe one day we'll see?

As I try to puzzle it out, the only reason I've come up with is that I'm most interested in characters as individuals. I see people as individuals, not who they are as a team or a couple. I see the individual first. I want space—I want to give the character space—to be who he/she is, without all the baggage of another person. I don't—well, I haven't—ever write two people trying to come up with a stance together as a unit. The whole "two become one" thing isn't part of my default.

Is that it? I'm not satisfied with that. It doesn't feel like the big Truth at the bottom of this concept. I totally believe in marriage; I've never had a problem with "one flesh."

I don't know.

I guess I'll keep thinking and talking and writing and see what happens.

What a weird-o quirk.

~ Stephanie

* This is happening in real time, by the way. This isn't a stylistic device XD

** One tertiary character has parents that we know are married, but we never even so much as see them in the same room.

*** There are exceptions to this. I would follow an Instagram page for Aaron's cat, Sombra, and the video of Cassidy's Mia fake sneezing is one of my favorite things of all time.

Boundaries: It Takes a Village

One of the things Boundaries makes clear is that it's impossible to do boundary work in isolation. That's not because boundaries must involve other people (you have boundaries to enforce on yourself, and you and God have a relationship with boundaries), but because boundary work is HARD. We need the support of people who love us in order to do it.

Over and over, Boundaries talks about practicing boundaries with "safe" people while you build up strength to face the people who are likely to react with anger or guilt-tripping when you try to set limits. Your safe people will be proud of you for respecting your property lines, and they can remind you of what's your responsibility and what's not your responsibility in the aftermath of holding a difficult limit.

According to Brené Brown, the most compassionate people seem to be the people with the best boundary skills. When you don't constantly feel resentful or taken advantage of, you can help with a happy heart. You're not a walking mess of compassion fatigue.

Basically, I guess I want to do two things in this post:

1) I want to encourage you to recognize your "safe" people. Who can you talk to about your journey with boundaries? Who can help you say No when appropriate, and cheer you on for doing the difficult, right thing? Who can you trust to tell you if you become a boundaries Nazi who might need to reevaluate?

2) I want to thank the people in my life who are supporting me in this work. I thought people would be mad at me and judge me for being lazy and selfish when I started working on boundaries. Ninety-nine percent of the time people have understood and replied to my refusals with "Good for you! That's so hard!" It's been humbling in a tearing-up kind of way. I tend to prepare for the worst, emotionally, and it's nice to be proven wrong. I don't know why I assume everyone is out for my blood*, but I'm working on stopping that and I've loved being pleasantly surprised.

I think boundary work gets easier as the process continues? I'm new at it, so we'll see, but what I'm noticing is that my boundary muscle is growing at a surprising rate, and the people around me are getting more used to it too. There have been hiccups, but everything has been working toward healthier expectations and communication, so yay!

I love my village so much, and I'm excited to become a better villager every day :D

~Stephanie

* Okay, maybe it has something to do with fear of betrayal/being an Eight, but good grief, why can't I chill? XD

I Apologize—or Do I?

I've been thinking about apologies a lot lately, from a lot of different angles. We'll see if this fits into one post or if it takes off into A Series.

Apologizing versus Sympathizing
I think this is one of the times English sets us up for imprecision, like the way it only has one word for "love." Nine times out of ten, when you say, "I'm sorry," some wise guy retorts, "wHy ArE yOu sOrRy iT'S nOt LikE it'S YoUr fAulT." Yeah, I know, Jim, I'm expressing sympathy; I'm not apologizing. English needs more words XD

Over-Apologizing: My Version
Gabe and I both over-apologize, but very differently. For me, appropriate apologies weren't something I studied as a kid. However, like many female Eights, I did internalize the belief that much of my natural behavior must warrant an apology. Because of this, I tend to apologize a lot because I feel like I don't have an accurate read on what people expect me to regret. I apologize for things that didn't need it, and sometimes miss opportunities where an apology would've been helpful.

Since Gabe is the person I'm closest to, I apologize to him the most. I apologize mostly 1) when I think I'm being "too much," and 2) because I've imagined blame/passive aggression from him. For example, I might notice that he started the dishwasher and assume that he's mad that I didn't do it first. I'll come to him and apologize for not starting the dishwasher, assure him that I was planning to do it, and ask if he's mad at me. We talked about this last night.

"It's like...it feels like a test," I told him, thinking out loud as usual. "Like you're waiting to see if I'll apologize for not doing it. If I do apologize, then of course you're not mad—and I pass the test because I apologized. But if I don't apologize, then you are mad, because you think I should've done it and if I don't show remorse that I didn't, I'm in the wrong."

He stared at me and then said, "I assure you I'm not putting that much thought into it. I just started the dishwasher."

Over-Apologizing: Gabe's Version
The way Gabe over-apologizes is...an absolute disease. He'll basically ask the waiter for the check and then apologize. When we checked into our hotel for our anniversary, we couldn't remember if we had reservations at one hotel or its sister hotel next door, so we needed to ask at the front desk. As we stood in line, I said to Gabe, "Do not apologize at any point during this interaction. You are doing nothing wrong. I'm sure people have this question all the time."

And he would've made it, too, but when we stepped up to the desk, the girl said, "Just give me one minute to wrap this up" as she typed into her computer and Gabe immediately: "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, yes, I'm sorry." BRUH.

When Apologies Become About the Apologizer
Gabe's apology disease (sorry, Love, I love you) leads into one of my biggest pet peeves about apologies: when the apologizer makes it about him/herself.

I believe the point of an apology is to express regret to the injured party, and maybe make plans to avoid causing pain/inconvenience in the future. Apologies should be about respecting or honoring the injured party. This goes awry in two ways:

1) When you fall all over yourself apologizing for something that doesn't merit an apology, you force the "injured party" to reassure you. It's no longer about expressing regret to the injured party. Now the injured party has to do the obligatory dance of, "Oh goodness, no, you're totally fine, don't even worry about it, no problem, no apology needed" and it's all about you, the apologizer. You've put a burden on the injured party. Now they feel a social obligation to reassure you that you were fine, your apology is unnecessary, etc. If you really want to do something kind or take a burden off the party you feel like you injured...don't force them into this dance of having to make you feel better. They'd probably rather just get on with their lives. Stop being annoying and emotionally demanding.

2) I also have beef with people who replace "I'm sorry" with "I feel so bad!" No. This isn't about you. You did something that hurt or inconvenienced me. If your reaction to hurting or inconveniencing me is to share how you are negatively affected...you're missing the point of an apology. Once again, you've put the burden on the injured party to reassure you: "Oh, don't feel bad!" etc. I am just about done with interactions that go like this:

Me: "You hurt/inconvenienced me."

Other person: "What?! I feel terrible! No! I would never do that on purpose! How could you think that of me? I would never! You always ascribe such negative intent to me! That's so unfair!"

Me: "Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you feel bad."

I was in a relationship for years where the other party turned every situation into something I needed to apologize for. Imagine a situation where Person A was driving Person B around while high on acid, and somehow Person B ends up profusely apologizing. A master of madness and manipulation, I tell ya.

If you are in the wrong, apologize first. You can share how broken up you are about hurting the other person second, if you have to, but for heaven's sake, is the apology about genuinely expressing regret or about assuaging your own conscience?

Of Interest, Particularly If You're a Five on the Enneagram or an INTJ
Technically—etymologically—I guess apologies ARE about the apologizer. I'm pretty sure the word means "away word," as in, using words to cast blame away from yourself. "Apology" implies a defense/justification of the offender's action, so maybe all the obnoxious "I Know You Think I Hurt You But Here's Why You're Wrong" people have a leg to stand on after all XD

Anyway, I'm sure you have your own opinions and pet peeves surrounding apologies—or the English language :) What are they?

~Stephanie