Three things they never taught me.
Empathy, Expectations, Old age. Man, if I knew then what I know now.
This is Essay #212
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“The aging process is not gradual or gentle. It rushes up, pushes you over, and runs off laughing”. John Mortimer
For whatever reason, I’ve been revisiting my loud and obnoxious past, sort of a self examination of how I got here. That’s what time at the farm does to me. Nostalgia and too much thinking.
It occurred to me that I wasn’t taught-or made aware of-key life skills that could have maybe saved me a lot of angst and unnecessary disappointment.
Of course, would I have been receptive to these concepts as a smart-mouthed young girl with something to prove? If you’re lucky, aging will open the door to some humility and insight that would have been useful when you were first leaving footprints on the earth, but I digress.
Empathy
From a terrific article in Psychology Today:
Empathy is the ability to recognize, understand, and share the thoughts and feelings of another person, animal, or fictional character.
But it’s hard! To be empathic you need to slow down and hush your urge to talk over someone. And to imagine the life experiences of someone else takes an incredible amount of patience. I’m painfully aware of my lack of empathy in my much younger life. I took the approach of ‘Ready! Fire! Aim!’ 😂
As a child of an angry, unpredictable father, my survival mindset meant I tried WAY TOO HARD to succeed and do well. So I bulldozed my way into relationships, both business and personal.
Taking the chance of business ownership when I couldn’t even read a P&L was a crazy, gutsy move. 🤦♀️ But so what? I did it anyway and made it up as I went along! And after 32 years, everything turned out ok.
The Susan of today would like to have a chat with the Susan of long ago. She would say: Listen. Watch. THINK before you speak. Ask Questions. Really HEAR what someone is saying. Today, I call it “interviewing”. People love to talk about themselves, so let them… and they will love you.
Expectations
A lack of empathy leads to assuming everyone will like and want the same things you do. False expectations… a sure set up for a not-so-great outcome.
Nowhere is this more evident to me than in the relationship I currently sort of have with my daughter. I started and ran my own business, so of course she will want to do the same. I wanted to travel the world, experience new things, learn new stuff, get out of the midwest. Surely my only child would want to do all those things!
NOPE. Her desire to be as independent from me as possible can be summed up with this story. Once, when she was a teenager, I heard her laugh. I commented, “Hey, you sound just like me when you laugh!” She whipped around with fire in her eyes and literally screamed, “I am nothing like you! I am my own person!”
YIKES. (Apple. Tree. Who’s going to tell her? 🤭)
Then, she wanted to marry a man I didn’t care for… I told her to rethink it. (Patriarchal, conservative, arrogant… not for MY daughter. She wasn’t raised to think this way.) I expected that she would want so much more from life.
And that was the beginning of the end. Biggest mistake I ever made. They have two great kids and seem happy. She created the white picket fence life I couldn’t give her.
I was wrong. And I’ve told her so. I’ve told him so, and he has since softened.
But any hope I ever had for a close relationship with my kid is gone.
You know, just because they’re your kids doesn’t guarantee you will be close. I come from a horrible upbringing, and really had no idea what to do. I do know moms with strong personalities like mine and they have similar situations with their daughters, who inherited that same personality.
I’m resigned to the sage advice of Mel Robbins: “Let them”. I watch this video short almost every damned day. Perhaps had I understood this concept years ago, things might be different today.
Old Age
“If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself.” Thanks, Mickey Mantle. Great quote!
My mentor said it best. They don’t teach you how to get old. I mean, we rip through life like we’re invisible and bullet proof, but time slowly takes us to the inevitable. I watched my grandmothers both slowly decline in their abilities but even then, I never gave a thought to my own aging.
Age ruins careers. Having been relatively successful in my advertising career, I aged out of the industry. I’m now “over qualified”. The reality is the bosses son just graduated with a marketing degree. AI is here. Algorithms rule. Creative takes a back seat. And, along with many former ad people, I’m done, eyeing a part-time job in the grocery deli.
Aging is sneaky, and you’re fooled into thinking it won’t be that bad. Then one day, you notice a tweak in your knee that hadn’t been there before. Your doctor tells you need a colonoscopy. (Please get one.) Your eyeglass prescription is steadily getting stronger. Those years in the gym you thought would protect you have resulted in a bad shoulder from all that weight lifting.
And party like a rock star? 😂
Mmmmm, no. Not anymore.
Woulda. Shoulda. Coulda. Three words my counselor taught me to wipe from my vocabulary. We can’t do a damn thing about the past, so look ahead. All the regret sucks out whatever time we have left… it’s getting shorter.
"The “how to age gracefully” business is booming. Supplements, creams, pillows… but it boils down to accepting the past and making the most of the moment we have right now.
So, get up. Show up. And be grateful.
Come back Friday for Photo Friday, where we’ll take a look at ordinary, everyday things! But… did you miss this “colorful” one from July 10?
See you again soon! 💙
Thank you for being here with me.
I look at the effort young people put into trying to look cool and I admit to doing the same things myself when I was their age.
One of the benefits of being older is the feeling of freedom of not being encumbered by youthful vanity anymore. I just don’t give a shit about trivial things that used to matter.
Susan Niemann: This is the writing of a very good, wonderful person.
You are giving.
You reflect on your relationships with people and, with the hindsight of wisdom, would do things differently, which would have sustained the loving relationship with your daughter and your son-in-law.
These are the foibles of a good person.
You have every reason to love the young, vulnerable Susan Niemann who did good all her life and was human enough to err.
Mel Robbins is speaking to the younger Susan Niemann.
If you erred, accept that.
My God, you are a human being.
You love and have always loved your daughter.
Your daughter sassed that she was not you.
Mother Nature meant for teenaged daughters to be this way. This was not, "Oh, God!" but "Thank God!"
For this means your daughter was then as now . . . normal and well developed.
A teenage and young independence from Mom or Dad is not a cause for worry but an evidence of normal development.
So long as the net result is, daughter makes mistakes, learns from them -- if slower than we like -- and on the whole leads a life that should enhance her love of herself.
That your son-in-law is more accepting is a victory.
And it says alot about your effort to heal relationships.
That your daughter is still distant means that reconciliation will be slow.
At least take small steps and you will end up satisfied you tried your best.
We are very imperfect. If you feel that your daughter loves herself and has a loving family life, you have done a good job, even with your foibles.
My God, I have so very many regrets, and weaknesses even after opportunities to grow in intellect.
You had a loving man. I hope you find such love again, you are so very good and worthwhile.
After Jake suffered from cancer and we lost him, you urge others to seek proper diagnosis.
You care for the rule of law, liberty, due process of law.
You show your empathy in wondrous, beautiful photography, for which you have an artist's gift.
You are good and lovable.
I am privileged, even through digital media, to have you as a dear friend.
Take care of yourself and your happiness.
You have many friends out here who take joy in your art.
As Professor Joyce Vance reminds us, "We are in this together."