Owning my life, making it my own

Once again, I am borrowing words from my sister, (and giving her full credit, and posting a link, and making sure she gets all the credit due her because she's brilliant beyond words sometimes.) just because she put it into words so perfectly, and it gives me a good starting off point.

In October of '05, sis wrote this post. Uh, yeah, she was talking to me. Maybe, just maybe she was talking about other people too, but yup, that's me right there, in Some people never get it and You can not see or hear. Dead on, bulls eye, direct hit.

There are people out there that just don't get it. I used to be one of those people. I used to be the one that would whine and cry about how awful my life was, and yet, I did nothing to change it. I continued to make the same choices, and get the same results. I continued to react to the same situations in the same way, and get the same results. And I continued to be miserable. And I continued to expect other people to sympathize with me, or fix the problem.

The very definition of insanity is Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. It's not going to happen, folks. If you don't like the way things are going in your corner of the world, it's up to you to change it. Change you, change your surroundings, change the people in your circle, change the circle you're in. A rut is just a grave with the ends kicked out.

I wanted her life because it looked so much better than mine and I didn't like mine. It was easier to steal hers than it was to change mine and make mine what I wanted. Funny thing is, it doesn't work that way. I couldn't have her life. I needed to fix mine. I needed to do the work to make the changes to make my life better. I wanted her to come in and fix my life, and well, that doesn't work either.

I wanted to make her friends my friends, because I didn't know how to make my own. I borrowed....no, stole bits and pieces of her life. Why? I wanted what she had and I didn't want to do the work to get it all for myself. The problem is, her life doesn't fit me, and I don't fit her life. We're just too different.

Eventually I got it. Eventually I realized that I needed my own life. I needed my own friends, and I found them, I made them, I've worked hard to cultivate friendships, and I work hard to maintain them. I enjoy them because they are mine. I found my own things, my own hobbies, my own interests, my own voice and it all means more to me because they're mine. I have my own music, I have my own style, I have my own life, that is not my sister's.

I did the work, I made the changes and I'm standing on my own two feet now. That also means when I fall, I make my own mistakes, and I learn my own lessons. I pick myself up on my own, and go on. If I need help, I ask for help. I don't want someone to come in and make it all right for me, but if I can't do it on my own, I get the help I know I need. Nothing wrong with asking for help. That's a sign of greater strength.

Yes, I started this blog post with my sister's words. I didn't steal them. I borrowed them. I linked to them, I gave her full credit.

The rest is my own.