My ex-husband used to tell me often that I was always disappointed. Nothing was ever good enough. That I always wanted more…….a bigger house, better car, better clothes, more money, better schools…..you name it, he said I wanted it. You see, I was married for twenty-four years. Together with him for twenty-six. I was married at twenty-one years old. I was a kid. I’ve said it before, but when I was going through divorce, i was sent an email with a list of all of my faults and deficits. In this email, I was told about how I live in disappointment. You know, the sad thing is that I believe that I bend over backwards for people. Maybe I’m delusional. Maybe that’s a made up narrative in my head. But then, I know I want to be successful at anything to which I put my mind……at work, at home, with relationships and personal growth. Again, I might be delusional to believe that dedication, effort, heart, integrity and morals ultimately bring success. I wrote a few days ago about wanting to run away. I sometimes still want to run away. Do you ever hear something so many times that you start to believe it? I’m in this crisis of identity. Reciprocity is a word I always hated. I had a friend once who used to say that she felt like she was the best friend to everyone and that she bent over backwards for everyone and simply wanted reciprocity. I never believed that was required. Meaning, I never believed that I needed something in return for giving to others. Yet, I find myself now wishing to have others sometimes bend over backwards for me. Just once. I’ve never had that…..or at least it feels that way in this moment…..no offense to my parents, because parents always bend over backwards for their kids, therefore, they don’t count. I love my parents and I love the amazing people they are in my life. I actually think it’s because I’ve watched them bend over backwards for their kids and each other, that I’ve become a woman who does that as well and who wants that for myself. Maybe it’s silly. Maybe it’s naive. Maybe one should never hope for another to bend over backwards for them. Is it disappointment, like my ex-husband said? Is it always wanting more? I don’t know. I’m starting to wonder if maybe all those things he said about me are true, and that I’m delusional to think he was a less than desirable human. I’m in this phase in my life where I’m experiencing the darkest parts of people and witnessing and receiving firsthand the wrath of another person’s will to destroy. And it’s showing in more than one area of my life, both personal and professional. Again, at some point, am I to believe that I am the root of all issues? After all, I am the common denominator. People know me. I think……yes, I truly think…….that what you see is what you get with me. I don’t believe I deceive and intentionally harm for my own gain. Yet, others want to portray me as just that person. I teach students to hang in there, in spite of others who might try to tear them down. I remember being their age and it’s tough to navigate life at that age. I never imagined I would experience the same torment as a middle-age woman. I’m having to defend my integrity, my values, my entire being. I’m being asked to care less. Some would say that I don’t need to defend anything. However, that’s easy for someone who is not in my position to say. Maybe I put too much into my character being representative of me. I find myself becoming someone I don’t recognize. Someone who feels insecure and sometimes feels untrusting. Someone who is waiting for the ball to drop……for the next person who will come at me. Made up stories. A narrative that feels icky and demeaning. Those people have created fear in others to the extent that no one will stand up for what’s right. So, I become the crazy one…..the one who cares too much. It feels like a movie. It feels familiar. It feels like twenty-six years of my life creeping in through others. I’m fighting it. I also know that I’m not alone. I know others have fought similar battles. We are all fighting to get out of this crisis of identity. To stop allowing others to define who we are at our core. Am I delusional? Maybe. I pray for the Good Lord to intercede and help me realize that those who know me truly know me. That those who know me stand by me and yes, that they make a choice. Some were forced to do that years ago. Some do that of their own volition because they’d rather not have to participate in conflict. Whatever the case may be, I pray that I remain strong with myself and trust in who I know I am.