Are you self-aware?
I must say, for me it is definitely a work in progress, as it should be. Daily.
I was getting the “ick” again with a valued friend.
This person knows every detail of my trauma. Someone I absolutely adored, loved, and trusted.
I asked, “Are you aware of your actions? Your words? Are you aware of how destructive your behavior has been recently?”
The response was, “I am doing nothing wrong.” All I could do was sadly smile. Not self-aware at all.
Side note: Our friendship has now run its course. My decision.
The friendship ended because in any relationship, you both have to be aware.
Me being aware I was being taken advantage of. Them not being self-aware enough to change their behavior.
It goes both ways people.
Thanks for the memories.
A few weeks back, I packed up Caoihme and took a road trip to the Northern California Coast to work on my book.
While there, I completed multiple chapters. I decided to put these specific thoughts to paper.
This book I’m writing has brought this topic to mind a lot recently. Truth be told, I’ve been cleaning house of certain people with a massive steam cleaner. Her name is self-respect.
Accountable for your actions against others and self-awareness of your actions towards SELF.
You have the strength to walk away from what hurts you, disrupts you, or just simply doesn’t serve you!
And damn, walking away really hurts sometimes, but so necessary.
Even the thought of intentionally or unintentionally causing pain to someone throws me into a tailspin of anxiety.
So why allow yourself to be on the receiving end of such torment?
I’ve been on that side, and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone.
Take accountability for being taken advantage of.
Self-awareness and insecurity lived in tandem for more years, I’d like to admit.
What I know now is if I was secure in self, maybe the path I’ve walked would have looked differently. I do ponder this every once in a while.
Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been taken advantage of.
I finally accepted the truth. I allowed it.
Then I allowed it to bleed into my friendships and marriage.
So why did this happen?
Insecurity for me was the fear of being “left.”
Even by people who did not honor me.
That’s truly the internal work I’ve spent the most time on. My incestuous need to fix people. I was living 15 + seasons of Maury Povich, and somehow it became normal.
I liked to collect pound puppies.
Who really did I think I was?
You can’t help pathological liars. You can’t fix adulterers. You can’t reform someone into being a truthful person.
You certainly cannot change a narcissist, that I know first hand.
Yet damn I tried.
But why? I didn’t want to deal with my own shit.
I didn’t want to deal with my unhappiness so I adopted pound puppies. It was almost like a transfer addiction.
Writing this book has brought out memories.
My psyche has protected me from it.
My memories were given cement shoes. They were thrown to the bottom of the ocean. I’ve got my dive gear on collecting them one by one.
I am yanking off the barnacles, doing my best to not get stuck by the sea urchins. These memories have a new life and a purpose.
Without sifting through, I wouldn’t be able to remind myself just how damn strong I was, am, and will continue to be. Awareness gives you that power.
And I no longer stop by the local SPCA.
2021 All Rights Reserved, Alison M. Cameron