Should I Really Care About That? - episode 166
It’s a great question and one we might all want to consider putting into practice. To combat her tendency to overthink, Taylor Conde-Nau has started asking herself if she should really care about this thing she keeps rolling around in her mind so much, whatever it might be. It’s a way to slow down the thought process and to keep things in perspective.
Her last name may sound familiar. She is my daughter. Taylor recently moved back to Southern California after living in Georgia where she, and her then husband, tried to make a go of things. It didn’t work and at the age of 22 she is home. I appreciate her commitment to learn from what she’s been through while using logical self-talk. And I was pleased she wanted to share some of her thoughts during a difficult time. May something you heard here today inspire you.
When the Real Change Comes
Thoughts from Should I Really Care About That?
What do you say to your 19-year old daughter when she wants to get married to someone she’s known for one month? Well, if you’re me you have all kinds of thoughts that go through your head like, you haven’t known each other very long to make that kind of commitment, and you are pretty young to make that kind of commitment. But how far would I get if I voiced that? Or if Ron said the things that were dancing through his head. Actually, it was the young man who came to me first and said, What would you think if we got married? I quickly calculated in my own mind the only answer that would make the most sense overall and that was to offer support. I did share two additional responses: Well, some people might say you haven’t known each other very long and some people might say you are too young to make a lifetime commitment like that. As you guessed, they went ahead and got married.
Here’s what I know. When you are young like that nothing your parents say is going to make much of a difference. In fact it will likely do the opposite. Cue all the movies about young love from Romeo and Juliet to West Side Story and the recent Ticket to Paradise. There are dozens of them. And in all of them the relationships between parents and child become strained, sometimes they even become estranged, and the efforts of the parents fall flat. They sacrifice the relationship they have with their child because they think they are right (often they are but that’s beside the point), and have the power to stop their child from making a “mistake.”
I made my own share of mistakes. From choosing a young man that was abusive (but I loved him!), to choosing a man who was not ready to be a grown up, and then choosing one who had secrets that came out too late. These were my choices. (I did make better choices too. There were a few stand-up guys back in the day but this blog is not about them.) Could my mother have said anything to make a difference? No. An emphatic no. I would have doubled down in my decisions and it would have driven a bigger wedge between us. I knew she didn’t approve. She didn’t even have to voice it. I could rationalize and excuse my choices, their behavior, until I couldn’t.
That’s when the real change comes, when you must pivot because there is no other choice. It’s change direction or be consumed by living the day-to-day reality of your bad decisions. And I did. That’s when I learned. No one could teach it to me or tell me. I wouldn’t have listened. I had to be ready, in my own way, in my own time. Then I became a rock. In the best way. I always stayed too long and when I left I was resolute, firm and unwavering.
I was also better. That particular perilous journey took me to a new place, a better place. I probably could have gotten there a different way, maybe even a less painful way but that’s not how I chose to go. God doesn’t waste a thing. He will take what we’ve done and make it beautiful. Yet you have to want it to happen. You have to be open to what is possible. Then you are ripe and ready to blossom in an even better way than when you started out.
I look back and wish I would have chosen differently in many instances but I didn’t. And that is the truth. I accept I did what I knew at the time which often came from fear. Now I am far less likely to come from that place although I certainly have my moments. Mostly I accept and take responsibility for who I am, what I do, who I choose to love. That’s the beauty of this ride. Live your best life, make your missteps, learn from them, and keep moving ever forward. And what was it Taylor said? Oh yes, it’s not about not making mistakes, it’s about learning from your mistakes. And she is. So am I.