Spiritual
This week: With a Wink and a Smile Edited by: Shannon More Newsletters By This Editor
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Welcome to the Spiritual Newsletter. I am Shannon and I'm your editor this week. |
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I HATE confrontation. In fact, I've spent the majority of my life avoiding it. I used to clam up and shut down, and still do on occasion, but I'm better than I used to be. I'm not sure why I betrayed myself like that (there are probably a plethora of examples from my childhood that play significant contributive roles), but I do know it negatively impacted my spiritual, physical, and mental wellbeing.
Anger is a natural part of the human experience, and there's nothing wrong with expressing it in a healthy, productive way. It took me years to figure that out. I used to bottle up my emotions, stuffing them deep down inside until the PSI became impossible to contain.
I remember the day everything changed. Unfortunately it was at work ... with a coworker.
It was the summer of '05. I was 36 years old and worked 7p-7a on a telemetry unit at a local hospital. My relief was a nurse I'll call Charles. I could smell alcohol on him almost every morning, but when I relayed my concerns to my supervisor nothing was done. Charles was condescending, chauvinistic, and patronizing. He left his work for me to complete, introduced me to the patients as "the newb" (I'd been an RN for four years at that point), and ignored the female doctors while schmoozing the male ones, complete with shoulder slaps and elbows jabs. This went on for almost nine months until one night, during report, he slipped a piece of paper across the counter to me. It was a list. He said, "How about you knock those out before I come back in the morning, eh?" Then he winked. He actually winked!
I. Flipped. Out. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I remember the wide-eyed expression of shock on his face. I remember him staring, speechless, for what seemed like an eternity before taking my elbow and whispering, "Let's go in the med room" (my diatribe took place at the nurse's station) as a fusillade of insults, swear words, and indignant gibes erupted from my mouth.
Not my finest moment.
To make a long story short, Charles never spoke to me in a disrespectful manner again AND he eventually got twelve weeks off to "deal with personal problems" (i.e. rehab). I quit (no, I wasn't fired) and got a much better job (and a boss who listened), but most importantly I learned to stick up for myself, although now I do it in a much healthier, more productive way.
Charles was a bully, and bullies thrive on weakness. They bank on you not defending yourself, and I firmly believe that you teach people how to treat you. I also believe that the majority of people are good, but there are some people out there who will walk all over you if you let them. If you allow the minority to take advantage of you, they most certainly will. If you allow them to use, abuse, mistreat, and take you for granted, they most certainly will. Why would they respect you when you don't respect yourself enough to stand up for who you are or what you believe in?
I learned this lesson the hard way. I found my voice that day, and there ain't no going back.
Thank you for reading.
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The following is in response to "Spiritual Newsletter (April 17, 2013)" :
ANN Counselor, Lesbian & Happy says, "Thank you for giving your readers something to think about. You always have a deep message so applicable to each of us. I know about the critical mother and how hard she makes us judge our best self. Mothers need to accept their children as they comb their hair, wear their clothes, speak their beliefs, and more; not criticize every aspect of the child because of her power on the kind of adult her child may become. My alcoholic father, sadly 'mean drunk' at times; was truly accepting of all that I was and kind in his moments of advice; far more than my religious mother. Acceptance of who we are is so important as we are becoming who we will be." Thank you, Ann, and I agree. I think we're too judgmental in general. We live in a society that bombards us with what beauty is "supposed" to look like, but those of us who've been around the block a few times know that true beauty comes from within. I think parents should focus on empathy instead of Abercrombie, kindness instead of Kenneth Cole, love instead of L.A. Gear. We're so wrapped up in fitting in and worrying about what others will think that we lose sight of what's really important: being a decent human being. Thank you again, Ann.
2serious says, "Shannon, on a day when I'm skipping church to explore this writing.com site your words inspired me. I grew up with a tough mom. Life's hardships zapped her tenderness. I imagine gentle conversations in our afterlives. Like you and your slow dancing in public, I'm taking small steps to lighten up. Joe Robinson in Don't Miss Your Life says, 'Fools have more fun.'" Indeed! Thank you so much for spending your Sunday with WDC, and welcome to the site!
Red Barron says, "A lot of the time I suffer from crippling fear or cowardice, but at the same time I am very courageous and brave. Don't be too hard on yourself, either. It's okay to feel fear and to feel cowardly at times. It's part of being human. You probably are a lot more confident about yourself than I am. It's great that you have good kids and a husband who treats you well, to support you. I also have bipolar, so I deal with these 'swings' all the time throughout the day. If you are mentally stable and have your mental health and physical health going for you, you are lucky and have a lot to be thankful for. I truly loved your Newsletter here. Please keep writing." Aw, thank you so much, Amy! I too have been brave, scared, courageous, timid, confident, shy. It's part of the human experience, and it's not a problem until you allow fear to cripple you and control every aspect of your life. For me, speaking in front of a group or speaking my mind when I feel it's necessary (like telling my supervisor that her overbearing, micromanaging leadership style is lowering morale, impacting company loyalty, and decreasing job satisfaction) gets easier the more I do it. It's never easy, but it does get easier. Thank you for reading and responding.
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