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Naïvete rears its confuséd head
Aug. 12th, 2008 02:28 pmAdulthood hit me particularly hard. I grew up completely protected by those who loved me, troubled by no more than the average troubles for an Army brat: when am I moving, who is worth my time to get to know, is Dad going to war? It sounds scary to those looking in from the outside but when it's your life and those fact just exist, it's not a big deal. The surprise comes when you learn conclusively that not everyone has to worry about it like you do. I have to admit that I find it very difficult to sympathize with civilians moving because of their job. I want to look at the family members wailing and gnashing their teeth and remind them that they're not special. I went through about five moves before the age of six with more throughout my entire life and I not only survived but flourished.
It constantly takes me aback that I do not have all the answers. It's not a source of depression, far from it. I sincerely believe that the three wisest words are "I don't know" provided, of course, that one seeks to rectify that immediately. I manage, in every environment, to gain recognition as an authority on just about everything. If I don't know, I don't hesitate to say so and then go rectify that lack. I had a little blow-up at work last week; nothing major, but the combination of PMS and frustration over the constant bombardment of negativity (mixed with an unhealthy dollop of making mountains from molehills) caused me to overflow. The assumption came to me that perhaps it stemmed from the fact that I'm used to knowing everything because I'm a teacher. The fallacy of that argument aside, it was because I held onto the naïve belief that once I reached adulthood, everyone around me would act like the adults they claimed to be.
I studied psychology and sociology almost religiously in an attempt to understand the world around me. My Roman Catholic upbringing brought up more questions than answers, especially once I grew old enough to see and not just hear. Even now, when I'm supposedly old enough to know better, I still view things in black and white, as if the world should go off my mental flowchart: IF this, THAN this. And then I pull off a Classic Blunder and I don't even conform to my own flowchart... how I expect the world to conform to that which I don't even conform? Most of the fights I have with Bruce stem from that internal conflict and the five-year-old within my head complaining that it just isn't fair.
I found the trigger for this conundrum from the announcement that John Edwards (he of presidential aspirations, not he of pseudopsychic persuasion) had an extramarital affair. As many of you know, I have cheated and been cheated upon before I met Bruce. I am aware of all the nuances and rationalizations that cheaters and cheatees use to expiate their wrongdoing. Part of me believes as Robert Heinlein said, "Sin lies only in hurting others unnecessarily. All other 'sins' are invented nonsense." But the emotional part of me knows how hard it is to look someone in the eyes when you're either cheating on them or when you've been cheated upon. I'm not even going to get into those cases wherein everyone involved knows the situation as it stands and still feels betrayed.
In my roundabout way, I wonder: even though we pretend shock and outrage when this kind of stuff happens, when a man admits to it, it never spells the end of his career. There seems to be a universal shrug, a knowing smile and a "boys will be boys" excuse. He goes on as usual. However, when a woman admits to an extramarital affair, she might as well kill herself right then and there because she is a WHORE. I do not understand the societal double standard.
It constantly takes me aback that I do not have all the answers. It's not a source of depression, far from it. I sincerely believe that the three wisest words are "I don't know" provided, of course, that one seeks to rectify that immediately. I manage, in every environment, to gain recognition as an authority on just about everything. If I don't know, I don't hesitate to say so and then go rectify that lack. I had a little blow-up at work last week; nothing major, but the combination of PMS and frustration over the constant bombardment of negativity (mixed with an unhealthy dollop of making mountains from molehills) caused me to overflow. The assumption came to me that perhaps it stemmed from the fact that I'm used to knowing everything because I'm a teacher. The fallacy of that argument aside, it was because I held onto the naïve belief that once I reached adulthood, everyone around me would act like the adults they claimed to be.
I studied psychology and sociology almost religiously in an attempt to understand the world around me. My Roman Catholic upbringing brought up more questions than answers, especially once I grew old enough to see and not just hear. Even now, when I'm supposedly old enough to know better, I still view things in black and white, as if the world should go off my mental flowchart: IF this, THAN this. And then I pull off a Classic Blunder and I don't even conform to my own flowchart... how I expect the world to conform to that which I don't even conform? Most of the fights I have with Bruce stem from that internal conflict and the five-year-old within my head complaining that it just isn't fair.
I found the trigger for this conundrum from the announcement that John Edwards (he of presidential aspirations, not he of pseudopsychic persuasion) had an extramarital affair. As many of you know, I have cheated and been cheated upon before I met Bruce. I am aware of all the nuances and rationalizations that cheaters and cheatees use to expiate their wrongdoing. Part of me believes as Robert Heinlein said, "Sin lies only in hurting others unnecessarily. All other 'sins' are invented nonsense." But the emotional part of me knows how hard it is to look someone in the eyes when you're either cheating on them or when you've been cheated upon. I'm not even going to get into those cases wherein everyone involved knows the situation as it stands and still feels betrayed.
In my roundabout way, I wonder: even though we pretend shock and outrage when this kind of stuff happens, when a man admits to it, it never spells the end of his career. There seems to be a universal shrug, a knowing smile and a "boys will be boys" excuse. He goes on as usual. However, when a woman admits to an extramarital affair, she might as well kill herself right then and there because she is a WHORE. I do not understand the societal double standard.
