No, no, no. Not that The Giver. Though, Lois Lowry certainly is an author worth talking about. I'm more so talking about myself, but I'm inclined to delete this sentence because WOW, does that make it seem like this is going to be a disgustingly self-glorifying blog post about how freaking charitable I am or whatever. But fear not, that's not my intent. At all. In fact, there's probably going to be a good deal of self-deprecation in this post. Here here!
What I really want to talk about is giving and giving and getting attached and becoming a semi-endearing host for a whole bunch of sometimes attractive but often not completely worth it love leaches. Got it? Cool.
I was talking to a friend tonight night over an abundance of Mexican food about a current crisis I'm dealing with (I'll just let you guess at it based on your current knowledge of my life, it's more fun when posts are interactive). I was sort of (read:very much so, in a high pitched whine) going on about how I feel guilty and responsible for making a good, solid decision that benefits me but inconveniences someone I care too much about. As I fretted, she sighed and said, "Nicole, you are a giver." I stared into the abyss of Mexican rice on my plate and took a very long sip of sangria.
Here is where I attempt to define what a giver is, not at all ever based at all on my personal experience. Because what do I know about that. A giver is a special creature who is pretty bashful and sometimes lives in a small hovel type dwelling, a la a fox. Maybe they just spend a lot of time in their bedrooms. Wherever they are, they are generally spending at least some of their time thinking of sweet things to say or creating thoughtful gifts to give the people they think are really swell. They are known to try too hard, harder than the person they think is really swell, and often they inconvenience themselves for people who sometimes deserve love and warm gestures, but plenty of times so totally do not even deserve a low-five.
Okay, I lied, that definition is 100% solely based on me. I've always been a fan of gifts. Now you're saying to yourself/me, "Nicole, that's such a dumb thing to say, who doesn't like gifts?" But what I mean is, I like the idea of a gift a whole lot. I love the idea of getting someone something meaningful just because you like them. Just because you like them! That's all. You think to yourself, "I really think that person's swell, and I want to make them happy, so I'm going to do/make/find/buy/carve/cook this for them, and they're going to DIG IT." That makes me happy. It is also a huge part of my personality (to a fault?) to show my like, and speak my like, for other people. Often, though, I've found that the sentiment isn't reciprocated. That doesn't stop me though. Because you are still my friend, someone I like a whole lot, and by gum, I'm going to keep at it.
I'm not saying here that, oh wow, I am a very sweet person and it is such a problem because I am just TOO SWEET. No, sirree Bob. It's more of an argument that I have an insecurity that folks won't love me unless it is known, and known via expressing it early on, and loudly. How does this tie in to my lamenting over making a decision that benefits myself? PERFECTLY, I THINK. This need to make others happy and insecurity that if I am not proactively being like LOOK, LOOK I MADE YOU A SWEATER MADE OUT OF APPLE PIES BECAUSE I KNOW YOU LOVE SWEATERS AND APPLE PIES, then that person isn't aware that I care. And making a decision that benefits only me and has a side effect of inconveniencing another person, any like or love that person felt for me must hypothetically fly out the hypothetical window, right?
Wrong. One of the quotes I've most frequently heard in my life is something along the lines of "If someone was really going to drop you that easily, then they're not worth your time." But that's also one of the hardest things for me to remember. Sure, a person isn't a good friend, and is likely not worth having in your life, if they're going to lose their like of you at the drop of a hat. Unless it was a glass family heirloom hat that you angrily threw on the floor to break and insult them. That's understandable.
It's one of many things I'm working on, and can be categorized under the broad umbrella heading of knowing your own worth - something I seem to always come back to. Lately I've noticed more and more reciprocation in my life. And honestly, maybe it was always there, or always trying to be, but I was too insecure to see it. But now I'm starting to see it. Here here, am I right?
Oh, and I'm wearing an outfit I like.