Monday Reflection/Rant

When your inner critic bites

I’ve been thinking about the lack of presence my grandparents had to offer — or better yet, how my grandmothers were stay‑at‑home mothers who were dismissed and unsatisfied in their lives because they weren’t seen for who they truly were. At a tender age back then, you’re given a job because “this is what you’re supposed to be doing,” and people ask you what you want to be when you grow up while you’re still playing with your toys, still having fun with your imagination that slowly gets taken from you.

Is it the communication that has thrown us off course? This idea that you have to be anything but yourself?

Constant nagging from your football coach, volleyball coach, academic leaders, all asking the infamous question: “Have you decided what college you want to go to?” And you’re still trying to wrap your head around the exam you just took, hoping you make a decent grade without being bitched at by your parents and then grounded.

I’ve always been told what would work best for me before I ever decided what I wanted or needed out of life. I’ve always been told I am this, that, and the other before I ever decided what I enjoyed about myself, my life, or my surroundings.

I’m doing a reflective piece this morning on how communication — or the lack of it — in my family upbringing and dynamics has played a crucial role not only in my beliefs and standards, but in how I receive and know my worth, my finances, and the blocks that have formed in my life. Am I worth it? Do I deserve more? Or do I deserve the bare minimum without any ancestral baggage yapping at me? None of the thoughts running in my mind are actually mine and never have been. The doubts, fears, and setbacks were programmed into me before I even caught my breath in the delivery room.

From my youngest memory, my mother was naïve and 17, working at a local McDonald’s making bare minimum — whatever that was in circa 1984. I know she worked at a factory, selling herself short just like the rest of the employees, unable to take care of her femininity the way we’re entitled to do. We deserve to relax, rest, and receive, but we’ve been programmed to live and breathe otherwise. Can’t make ends meet each week, not knowing our worth.

My father worked in a factory as well and barely had time to sit down and take care of himself or his family. Why? Because that’s what his father did. I remember hearing so many stories — what the fuck — and here I am at 42 years young thinking… wait a minute. Why has this been happening? Why didn’t I see it sooner than today or yesterday, even though yesterday doesn’t matter because it’s gone?

Is this something I’m going to pass down to my children — telling them what, who, or why something would work best for them instead of letting them figure it out on their own? Or am I going to let social media tell them who they are or are not?

I have been so many different people and accomplished so much throughout this lifetime already, and the question remains: Was it worth it? Was I doing it for someone else’s belief? Because I was told to accept the bare minimum and shame on me for not listening to my intuition.

I don’t regret the job choices I’ve made, but they weren’t worth it to me because I deserved better. I was overqualified because I trust my experiences and knowledge, but I was made to believe my boss was smarter, that I didn’t know what I was talking about because of my background. But it wasn’t my background I was shamed for — it was the shame of others who couldn’t heal their burdens, and I carried it around without knowing it until a few years ago when I really started to listen and do the inner work.

Shedding these layers of uncertainty and shame, remorse for shit I didn’t even do. Expectations that weren’t mine — they were my elders’ and theirs before them.

I’m thankful to be here, changing this dynamic by any means necessary. I’m thankful I was handed the so‑called torch to stop this nonsense because I know I deserve better, and so do my children and theirs after them. I’m thankful I can wake up knowing I can create my own reality in whatever way I deem fit without being gaslit by the shadows of others. That I am open to receive my life and what I deserve without guilt or shame. That I can live and breathe the way we were meant to.

Not saying going to work is anything crucial, but I’ve come to realize it doesn’t fit me — and I can accept that.

So there it is, really: it is about communication. How we treat ourselves, what we surround ourselves with, and what we tell ourselves.

Am I worth this, or do I deserve better?

Thanks for reading. I’ll be sending out a newsletter in a couple of days. Enjoy and good luck to us all!!