Throughout my life, I’ve gained quite some tolerance. I gained a tolerance for poor outcomes. I gained a tolerance for poor behaviour. I opted out of self-respect to keep this tolerance steady. It was always a strength in my eyes. I was capable of dealing with a lot more than other people could.
I had this superpower that was conveniently activated at all times, ready to take on the next bad thing. I think part of this came from the universal female desire and need to help people. So not only was I able to tolerate these circumstances, I was going to change them. Not only would I deal with poor behaviour, I was going to fix it.
I believe that everyone is inherently good, but some just allow their egos to take over their souls more-so than others. But they shouldn’t worry at all because I will help them change. Or perhaps it would be easier if I just changed them myself. People don’t exactly like putting in the work so I can do it for them. It’s fine. I’m fine. They’re fine. EVERYTHING IS FINE.
As we all probably know, we can’t change people and we don’t have the authority to dictate what anyone’s journey looks like, including our own. And after every conspicuous failed attempt, I started to become the problem.
When you only look at things for what they can be, rather than what they are right now, they begin to lose their value and you begin to lose your trust.
I dated men who had the potential of being better and kinder. They had the potential of loving me. I say ‘dated’ loosely because often times, we were never “officially” dating (whatever that means), but we totally had the potential to. I made friends with people who had the potential of accepting me into their lives. I obsessed over what could come from these people and these circumstances instead of first accepting who and what they were already.
I fell in love with the idea of life rather than the reality of it.
What happened when I kept failing at changing things and people is I began to change myself. I adjusted myself to fit what they needed because that was something I actually had control over. And so when those people left my life and circumstances changed into something I could have never seen coming, I began to lose myself. With the adjustments I had made, I came out of these relationships and life events without any clarity of who I actually was.
I learned that my tolerance was not a virtue, rather it was a waiting game. As I continued to hope for people to change, I kept changing myself until I completely lost my own authenticity.
What I’m trying to learn now is how to be patient. How to have patience with people, patience within myself, and patience towards life’s unfolding. Along with patience comes trust. Trust for what already is and what is to come. Rather than trying to shift and change and gain some sense of control over my own life, what if I were to just be? What if I were to just allow things and people to be? What if that’s how patience is accrued and what if that’s exactly how life wants to unravel?
I don’t mean patience with people who are treating you poorly or allowing circumstances that you can get out of to continue hurting you. I mean patience in the timing of things. Patience in accepting who people are now at this very moment is exactly who they need to be. This doesn’t necessarily mean they need to be in your life, but they need to be that person for their own journey.
Instead of surrounding myself with the potential of goodness, I try to look at who and what things are in the present and how well they compliment my intentions, my happiness, and well-being. This often doesn’t leave you with very much, but what it does leave you with is the truth. And an honest life is far better than one that is pretending to be.