Ownership and Accountability
Growing up I often found myself reprimanded with the directive, “Go there,” accompanied by a pointed finger signaling a corner, and the phrase, “Think about what you’ve done wrong.”
I often wondered what possible reasoning a child could muster, amid the inherent antics of childhood.
All the thoughts I could think of to get me out of time out quick enough fill my mind. I was told to hush, but my voice persisted. I was instructed to calm down, yet my energy refused to wane. How am I supposed to clean a van spotless in the dark?
Unraveling the motives behind these admonitions finished quickly and I found myself less concerned with the initial command and more preoccupied with the steps that lead up to this point.
Am I being yelled at because of asking questions? Did I talk back? Is it because I found the reason too fast?
When my grandfather would finally ask for me to be brought out of the corner, I felt unworthy— believing that I should still be atoning for my conduct.
The pursuit of understanding 'why' became the basis of my tendency to overthink. Failing to understand why my actions were considered wrong might have contributed to anxiety given that I had been scolded for laughing a little louder, playing a bit rougher, or speaking up for myself.
Ingrained in my upbringing was the inclination to believe I was perpetually at fault, that the world (my family) could deem me unworthy, and that all justifications for punishment pointed to my own faults.
If my grandfather were here today, he would remind me that the temperament of others was the root cause. He’d advise against dwelling on their actions and encourage me to love my family.
I think he meant to love life a little more because to him, family = life.
Even though I was placed in that corner, it is possible that my mistake was not cherishing my life (family) enough. That is to say following their instructions while taming my childlike reactions.
Though due to that warped sense of belief, I should have realized sooner that I am loved and deserving of it.
Instead of living in that truth, I burden myself with endless possibilities of how sequences of events could have played out better. If only I had done things differently, I wouldn’t have brought disappointment into my life.
These habits so meticulously ingrained into my every thought and action, to this day, becomes easier to manage. I wonder how different life would be if I fell into mindless obedience, yet I remain grateful for the independence I have inherited despite that.
If ever I fall short of grace, which is quite often, I remind myself to tread a little lighter, breathe a little softer, love a bit more, and appreciate the life given to me because losing sight of what we have is easy; gratitude requires work.
