29 April 2009

Push-me-over



Am I a push-over? 

Today, after being repeatedly dictated upon and constantly losing an "argument" to a 3-year old, I find no evidence to the contrary. 

Now even if the only thing left for me is to glorify my deplorable state with the halo of sainthood (or should I say martyrdom), I will not do so. For it only sounds cute if the "pusher" is my tyrannical tot. When it comes to older tyrants, this picture turns grey.  

So I am a push-over. I have been since childhood. My lakay has another name for me. He calls me a "yes Mama." Five children in the family, yet I'm the one who always ends up cleaning the arinola, buying fish from the distant neighbor's store, climbing mountains and walking through the thicket of ravaging dogs (no exaggeration here) to deliver messages from the mother to her choir members... I can go on...this hilarious list will never end. 

I already knew a long time ago that I am a pushover, and I haven't been bothered at all. I have felt at home with it, reconciled with the possibility that I will never change. 

Until it hit me today, while sitting on the potty, the one place where my insights often come to me:  

Being a push-over, or remaining one, is a sign that I have not yet grown. 

And I began to see the pattern of my life. Ever since childhood, I have magnetized people (siblings and friends alike) who have very strong and assertive personalities. And why do they like me? Take a guess! 

I'm the easiest person one can get along with, because I'm really eaaassssy. If they say do this, the doggy me will simply follow suit.  Until, somehow, I have grown an ego, and the tension within me began. This should have been a moment of liberation for me,  a moment to recognize that I have a self to own, that I am not a slave! (with the tone of Nora Aunor please!) 

I came to know this self, alright, but somehow she has not overcome the shyness of a pre-teen. By that I mean not only the cute picture of someone who blushes whenever she's flattered, but also the disdainful experience of not being able to assert what she wants simply because she is afraid of hurting others. 

Now why do I refuse to recognize this as an example of sainthood? Because, if it is anything at all, it is FALSE sainthood. 

If the 'yes' can easily come out of me, that's because I am more afraid for my self than I am really willing to be of service. I am afraid of the rejection, the criticism, the resentment. Freud would have an explanation for this, but to me, it is no longer relevant. What matters more is learning to trust people and their capacity to handle my well-intended "no." In this way, I give justice to them and to myself.

As I type, I hear the wailing of my tyrant, demanding for his maidservant mom by his side. I will go now and soothe him with my lullaby, and whisper to my lord that for now, I will abide...but for his sake and mine, this slavery with consent won't be for long. 

4 comments:

ruthietheotaku said...

Hehe I'm doing marathon comments on your blog. Glad you finally started one. Let's see ..pushover...You know in psychology, I think it was under Adler's theory of personality, the middle child is always the one with the most friends. According to him, the middle child doesn't have the issues that the first, second and last born have. Guess he was wrong ahahaha. I may have done tons of pushing on you too (which is pretty bad since i'm the youngest). Sorry! Good luck with winning arguments with Johann.

littleoneofgod said...

here's one argument:
Mom: It's time for bed!
J: Why?
Mom: Because it's sleep time! (8 pm)
J: But it's still day time!(points to the window), It's not yet night.
Mom: (looks out the window and remembers that sun sets at 9 pm here)

**sheesh. what do you say to that?

Anonymous said...

I came to know this self, alright, but somehow she has not overcome the shyness of a pre-teen. By that I mean not only the cute picture of someone who blushes whenever she's flattered, but also the disdainful experience of not being able to assert what she wants simply because she is afraid of hurting others.--- Hi Miss Lovelyn! (Sorry, I still cannot let go of the "Ma'am", so I used "Miss" instead. That's as "democratic" as I can get for now. Yes, Jerome sent us your message about wanting to share with us your blog. Thank you, I'm sure all of us are honored. I hope you don't mind me reading through everything written here so far.)

The paragraph I copy-pasted from your post hit me hard. I'm also guilty of giving almost anything people ask of me. I don't hurt others because I try my best to please everyone, but in the process I end up hurting myself. So I continue to struggle with this want to be loved and the need to allow myself and other people to grow up. And so far, this want has just stunted my capacity to mature.

But I think "growing up" is a lifelong process, and if anything, it's great! You've always told us how we should never stop learning, and I guess everyday that we become more mature is just one of the ways to continue discovering things we've never appreciated before.

I hope you and your family are doing well! God bless! - Kei

littleoneofgod said...

Hi Kei. Thanks for dropping by. I'm glad you were able to relate. So that makes two of us... I thought so (hehe). Seriously, we don't have to change completely. I think that's what we have become and that's what they have learned to love about us. We just have to learn to make the distinction between saying yes for the sake of service and yes for the sake of self-service.