Usually my nightmares feature John Mayer and my failed attempts at seducing him.
But my latest nightmare starred Grammy winner Bruno Mars. And he did something much worse than reject my brown sugar charms.
In the dream I was in a cafeteria with friends, sitting at a table next to Bruno and his band. He made a sign that he taped to the back of my chair. It read: “Not creative”.
When I asked what this was all about, he stood up in front of the crowded room and shouted, “You work hard, but that doesn’t mean you’re creative. You’re not going to make it in this industry. ”
Then he pointed to a random girl behind me and said, “That girl? Now she’s creative. She was just born with it. She’s amazing. Not you, though.”
I was crushed. I took his statement to mean that no matter how hard I try, I cannot overcome the limits of my genes, my history, my personality, and my natural skill set. I won’t be able to keep up with the big boys in the new industry I’m trying to break into because I simply don’t belong.
Have you ever felt like you don’t belong? Like you’re out of your league? Like your heart was in the right place, but your skill set wasn’t?
Werewolves know it’s true: the transition is the most painful part.
It’s easy to mistake a year of transition for a year of depression.
For example, you might move to a town and wonder if you’ll end up hating it there. You mistake your period of adjustment for depression.
Or you are hurt by someone who was very careless with your heart, and you discover that the road to the forgiveness is the longest, hardest walk you’ve ever taken. It’s a process. But you don’t understand that yet. All you know is that after all this time you’re still resentful. So now you’re stuck feeling resentful and guilty and weak for not being over it already.
Or you might be moving into a new phase of adulthood and have difficulty accepting that it’s nothing like adulthood was for you just 5 or 10 years ago, so you have an existential crisis about it.
Or you want a baby even though you’re not set with your finances or career, but you try for it any way just in case it takes you two years to conceive like it did for that one couple you know. You get pregnant on your very first try and find that pregnancy doesn’t feel anything like you how you thought it would feel.
Or your friend dies.
This past Monday was President’s Day here in the United States– a day when people who work in schools, banks, post offices, and government offices get to stay home in their pajamas while everyone else temporarily feels like they chose the wrong career.
The day reminds of me of the nature of great leaders. They have what we all want: self respect, and the respect of others.
Technically, you’re a leader too. But whether you’re a good one or not is the question.
You might be a leader at your job, in your family, or in a social club of some kind. But if none of these apply, you are, at the very least, the leader of your own life. You are the master of your ship. Which means that if your life is out of order and you feel like crap, you had better call a meeting with the boss: you.
Not getting a nose job. Deal with it.
There are times when you have nothing left to give.
You did your best: you were flexible, you made sacrifices, held your tongue, bent over backwards, and did whatever it took to please.
Listen, I know why you did it.
You cared. But also, you were afraid. Afraid of being disliked, blamed, abandoned, misunderstood, or seen as the bad guy. The consequences were too great.
But there comes a time when there is nothing left that can be done, or at least not without a price. If you sacrifice any more of yourself to meet their expectations, you’ll lose a lot more than someone’s favor; you’ll sacrifice the light of your spirit, the joys of your lifestyle, the essence of you.