Since I was a toddler I’ve been working to get validation from so many people. It came easy from my parents. They encouraged me to be whoever and whatever I needed. My mom was always the first person to read anything I wrote. Though she never wrote herself I trusted her opinion over all others. It could’ve been stupid. Are parents really honest with their kids when it comets to their work? Probably not. My first critique worse then I did. She ranted for 30 minutes about how I should defend my work when it’s critiqued. She came from the art world…thats what you did in crit. She couldn’t grasp the idea of taking the note and being quiet. She got to it eventually. She didn’t sugarcoat my work either. If she something wasn’t working, she’d tell me. She’d let me know when the dialogue was “on the nose.” She always knew when I could do better.
My dad did the blind encouragement. He was sure I would accomplish all my dreams. I knew not to go to him for constructive criticism, but there was something as equally important in his validation. I believe that you can accomplish anything when someone else believes, with unrelenting faith, that you will. That was my dad. I know my dreams are crazy and hard to accomplish, but I always knew I could do it cause he believed.
I had them and many other people but there was one person who’s approval I tried to gain from almost my entire life. My dad’s mother. My Nana. From the moment I can remember I’ve always felt lesser in her eyes. It’s damaging when a four year old realizes that. It gave me this unrelenting need to impress her and make he see that I was worthy of her love. I have to many stories to list, detailing the damage. It’s little things over years and years that built up and break a person.
There’s always one that sticks out in my memory. My grandparents came to visit my parents and I one spring. This rarely happened. I can count on one hand the amount of times my grandparents visited us. Now to understand this moment you have to understand that I am an incredible picky eater. One of the things I hate walnuts. It’s pretty well known in my family especially since my Nana made a Coffee Walnut Muffin that everyone loved. In fact whenever we had them it was brought (usually by my dad, he couldn’t help himself) that I hated them. That rare visit to Orlando my Nana brought some of her baked goods. I have was hoping for her blackberry wine cake, but that’s not what she unpacked. She took out her Coffee Walnut Muffins. Unable to stop myself and realizing there was nothing packed that I like I blurted out, “Nana I don’t like those.”
Her reply was simple and heartbreaking, “I know they’re your cousins favorite.”
Now before you ask, no my cousin was not there. I know it’s not that big of deal. On the surface it isn’t. However, I was barely thirteen and this wasn’t the first time she’d pulled a move like this. It was the first time I realized I was completely invisible in my Nana’s eyes. That didn’t mean I was done trying to get her to see me. When I was seventeen, while at my Nanas, I pulled my parents aside at Thanksgiving. I was in my senior year of college and hadn’t applied to any colleges. My grades where mediocre and my mental health was shit. I knew I had to go to community college. I told them that I made my choice. They looked me and said that’s a great idea. We developed a plan together. Two years at a community college but by the end of year one I had to figure out what four year college I wanted to transfer to. Again completely acceptance in everything. Before we went back inside I asked them if we could not tell our family, Nana. They both knew right away why. My mom told me it didn’t matter. I was doing what was best for me, fuck everyone else. I liked her sentiment but deep down I was still that damaged 4 year old. They’d tell Nana later. They hugged and told me how proud they were of me.
It should’ve been enough.
For years I tired everything to get my Nana to notice me. I just wanted her to tell me how proud she was of me. A simple set of words that she gave everyone else in our family. She never did.
I still search for validation from people who are not going to give it. Last night a very good friend texted congratulating me making it into a writing lab. I messaged her back thank you and she replied:
“I’m so proud of you.”
It was unexpected and meant everything. For a long time I’ve taken those words for granted when they have come from the people closest to me and instead trying to get people who will never say it to me to say it. But getting the text, having some I respect so much, tell me that was a reminder I have to stop trying to prove myself to people. I need to be proud of myself and invest in those that already see what/who I can be.
I’m Fine 