I decided to title this post ‘Motivation’ because I think I just needed to see the word staring back at me for a little while. It’s 7:30, and I haven’t done anything tonight. Literally, I just sat on my bed, talked to Sophie and watched shows on my iPad. I haven’t even changed out of my scrubs (ew). Every time I thought about getting up and doing something, you know, being productive…I said to myself:
Wow, talk about motivation (or lack thereof, actually). It’s now 8:39 and I’ve written one paragraph. Okay, you with me? Let’s knock this out. Picture me Rocky-style bouncing on my toes to warm up for all this writing that’s about to happen. Yep, any minute now…this post will actually start. I can feel it. I will win this staring contest with my screen. Okay, I just lost the staring contest, but I think it’s because Soph jumped off the bed.
Everyone has an inner motive, maybe some people have many motives. A desire that must be satisfied and is at the root of everything that you do, everything that you say, every relationship that you nurture, every choice you make. Some people want to be right, no matter what. They will do whatever they can, argue about anything, or research any topic just to prove their point. Others want control by manipulating emotions, words, situations, or whatever else it takes to put them at the ‘driver’s wheel of life’, per se.
For me, it’s acceptance. I guess you could call it approval, also. I have this deep, deep-rooted need for people to like me. It’s not that they can’t ever say anything negative to me, or call me out on things, but in the end…I still just want to know that you haven’t given up on me and you’ll still be in my life. Whether you’re family, a friend, a patient, a stranger, my waiter/waitress, phone representative, or whoever…everything I do is motivated by this need for you to approve of me.
It’s sick. I’m not proud of this need, nor do I like for people to realize this about me. yes, I should probably go to see a therapist for it, but blogging is cheaper. I mean, let’s just get into how messed up I am, shall we?
- I make decisions about what groceries I’m buying because I don’t want the checker to think things about me like, “gosh, she eats that?” or “no wonder she looks like that, she has two pints of ice cream in her cart”. Oh, and if I do make the choice to buy ice cream or something else that’s unhealthy, I WILL wait in the longest line just to get the little old lady to ring me up because I know she won’t judge me. Don’t worry, I’ll still have anxiety the whole time she’s ringing me up…
- It is a very, very rare sight to see me return food at a restaurant…no matter how bad my order was messed up. And no, it’s not because I just don’t care, that would make it easy. It’s because I’m terrified that they will hate me and talk about me in the kitchen if I ask for my burger to be cooked a little more.
- I will conform to anyone’s schedule, go along with any plan, and avoid making decisions out of fear that someone will look down on me for thinking a certain way. “Where are we eating?” is my absolute. least. favorite. question. of ALL TIME. If no one EVER asked me that again and just made the decision for me…forever… it would be a great life. (Just no Mexican is all that I ask!) Seriously, deciding what to eat with other people is the bane of my existence.
- This one’s hard for me to write down because I know just how crazy it sounds: I will actually attempt to act more or less intelligent based on who I’m around, just to make that person feel more comfortable. Causing someone to feel dumb, or that they stick out in any way makes me cringe, and I will do whatever it takes to avoid that feeling. If you wanted to talk about politics and the wars in other countries, I would do my best to make you feel like you were talking to someone that cares about that kind of thing…even though, (shocker) I have no idea what goes on in my own neighborhood, much less another country. But, would I ever tell you that? Nope.
- There are many other ridiculous things that I do on a daily basis, but I don’t think you could handle it. I’ll spare you. (And let’s be honest, I think at this point you’d start judging me…and we CAN”T have that, now can we? 🙂 )
I dream of a life where I could use inappropriate hand gestures to the world and say, “It doesn’t matter what you think of me, World, I don’t care!” It would be incredibly freeing. The weight of needing people’s approval… it’s overwhelming at times. I know that there must be people out there like me, people who don’t think I’m crazy. But, for those of you that don’t have this insane need for acceptance, I have two words for you: be nice. Be nice to those of us that have a really difficult time making decisions, remind us that it’s important to have an opinion, be nice when you can see it’s killing us inside that you yelled at the drive-thru lady for taking too long (it’s not always her fault!), and finally, don’t take advantage of us because you know you can get away with it.
Can motives change? Will I have this inner need for acceptance forever? I don’t know. It does have it’s perks: I’d say I’m usually pretty flexible with plans, always up for anything (yes, even Mexican food, if we must). I don’t ask for much, but I’d sacrifice anything for someone. I have great friends, and (I hope) I have very few enemies.
So, now it’s 9:12, and I have officially done one thing tonight: write a blog post. I’m going to consider that a success. Take that, motivation!