There's Nothing Wrong With Me, Why Do You Ask?

I started off this morning thinking about why it's so hard for me to accept a compliment, or even to believe it when someone says anything positive that involves me in any way. It's ridiculous that, at nearly 41, I automatically doubt these things when they come from others. So I spent a lot of time today thinking about why that was, and I think I may have a handle on it.

I have spent my entire life being told, directly or indirectly that there is something wrong with me. I have ektrodactyly, which for me translates as four fingers on each hand, three toes on each foot. Thing is, it's not who I am. There are very few things I want to do that I can't do because of it (okay, I can't get safety caps off prescription bottles, fair enough, but now they don't put them on in the first place -- problem solved). I write, I knit, I screw things into walls on occasion, and I do all sorts of other things that I and others manage to enjoy quite a bit. So do a lot of other people. Thing is, when I do these things, it's somehow a major accomplishment in the eyes of some, and that drives me completely insane!

I love my family and friends, truly, but I love some more than others. The ones I love the most are the ones I've never had to forgive even a little bit for treating me differently. The ones who have never used the words "birth defect" or "disability" or "handicap" in reference to me outside of a very specific conversation about my hands. The ones who haven't done a double-take when meeting me for the first time, haven't paused a beat or two before taking my hand when I've offered it to shake, haven't assumed that other, less-enlightened individuals than themselves may have a problem with my hands (though they don't, of course). Yes, I know it's strange (I look at photos of myself and get some sense of how things must look to you), or at least different, but the moment it's pointed out, it's also implicitly made "wrong."

When I am on my own, doing my own thing, I don't feel like there's anything wrong with me. I can do what I need to do. I've figured out how to live my life with what I've got (what other choice is there?), but it doesn't make me noble or special or any more amazing than anyone else. What it makes me is independent and capable in my own right, just like any of you. Telling me you are amazed that I knit doesn't make me feel good, it makes me feel like a specimen.

The fact that I "manage" as well as I do, that I'm not afraid to use my hands in conversation, that I go out in public in sandals in the summer and live the same damned life as anyone else I know should not be a surprise to anyone. If it is, then something is "wrong" with me, and I'm tired of living under the supposition that there's something for which I and everyone else in my life need to be compensating. Because, for once, I'd like to be able to accept a compliment without question. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?

Reverb 10 #4 - #6

(So much for dailiness)

December 4 -- Wonder. How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year?

My sense of wonder is sparked by watching creative people do their thing. I've started going out to see live music more again this year and I am always truly amazed by what musicians can create with voices and instruments and talent. Watching other creative people has helped me start thinking more about my own pursuits, though delving into them in any real way may still be an "if" rather than a "when."

December 5 -- Let Go. What (or whom) did you let go of this year? Why?

In May, I let go of a relationship that had run its course, again. We had been together for nearly three years and it had become evident a while before that living together wasn't actually making us any closer, if anything it only highlighted the differences in our personalities and interests. Throw in a disruptive addiction and my decision to buy a house and the fate of the relationship was well and truly sealed.

This was the second time around for us, we'd been together for nearly three years in the late 90s/00s and it hadn't worked out then either. Unfortunately, I am the queen of the doomed relationship, which is why we ended up trying it again and hanging in there for as long as we did. This ending was mostly painless (probably because of the dress rehearsal) and we are still friends (and have probably always made better friends than partners), but we are also both still single, so there's an awkwardness to our interactions that will linger for a while, I'm afraid.

December 6 -- Make. What was the last thing you made? What materials did you use? Is there something you want to make, but you need to clear some time for it?

The last thing I finished was a beanie knit from two colors of silk/wool blend yarn. I love it, it fits just the way I wanted it to and the sheen of the yarn is simply lovely. I always have a list of projects. There are tons of things I want to knit, pieces I want to write, photos I want to take. I'm terrible at clearing the time for them, because I am usually afraid I'm not going to be happy with the end project. So I may as well use the time to look at things other people have made instead. It's a terrible cop-out, and I am trying to get out from under that mentality, but it's taking a while, because it's been growing for far too long.