Haters

I'm in a very delicate place as I write this. I came to a huge realization about myself and the people in my life. Specifically the haters.

Quoted directly from urbandictionary.com: "Jelious ass people who can't stand to see someone doing better then them or see that someone has something goin for them and they dont!!!!! thats when they start to hate on u!!!"

Ok, the grammar and use of language alone turns me into a hater, but I won't go there. The point I wanted to make was the haters in my life are the ones who can't stand to see me doing something good for myself, so they come up with ways to prevent me from doing those good things. Their reasons could be jealousy, fear, or just plain hatred--their reasons are their own. But... I mean... come on!

I'll start with the cloaked hater. This comes in the form of that loving, nurturing group called my family. And by that, I mean mom, dad and brother. These are the people I grew up with, who love me no matter what. That's why I say they are cloaked--their are undercover haters.

All the good ol' days. NOT! I never remember us walking like this as a family.

My parents and I have a very complex and interesting relationship. On my mom's side, I believe it's a "I love my daughter, I'd do anything for her as long as it doesn't interfere with my work or make my husband mad." My dad is more like "I will tell her to do everything better because that's what I do but I won't get off my ass to make it better. I'd rather lecture her about politics and her kids from my recliner here on this island."  And my brother, oh he's a tricky one! "My sister... I love her. But I don't want to spend that much time with her."

To be completely fair, I have to say I'm probably exaggerating a bit here. I know my family loves me unconditionally. I love them too. I will do anything for my mother--I think she's an amazingly patient and loving woman. I will do anything for my brother--I seriously believe he hung the moon... seriously... HE HUNG THE MOON. For my dad... well... I'd do most anything. (long story!) He's my dad (techinally step-dad but he's been my dad most my life) and I love him but he always has been and always will be that holier then thou type.

So why are these wonderful people haters? Because, whenever I would announce I was going to do something to better my life--get a job, lose weight, go back to school--they have always laughed and said in a very dismissive way, "Yea, ok." ha ha ha  "Good luck." There has never been any support or help from them. And that has always left me with the feeling of, well, if my family doesn't think I could do it, I probably can't. That mentality has stuck with me my whole life. That's probably why I'm not a super successful whatever because my family have never been the supportive type. My parents couldn't care less when I quit college. They couldn't care less when I made stupid mistakes and got myself into trouble. It's always been a "she'll learn" mentality with them. I see that in my brother now because he's the same way. He is very much "I'll help if she asks, but I'm not going to offer."

Does that make my family haters? No, probably not in the literal sense (not the urban dictionary sense). I know they love me but I just wish they could support me. 

I tell ya... it's a lesson learned for me though! I will support and encourage my children to do whatever they want. I don't care if I'm paying for piano lessons one month and tap lessons the next. I will do what it takes to help them find their thing.


The second kind of hater is a tricky one. It's a friend. Not a close friend. But a friend none-the-less. She is super peppy--the cheerleader type. And I adore her.

Rah! Rah! Rah! Get it done!

She makes up for the lack of support from my family. Seriously, this girl has so much pep in her, she probably makes up for the lack of support in a lot of families. She is a go-getter, a doer. This girl gets her shit done.

So why is she a hater? Simply put: You don't do, you suck. She will lecture you for hours on end if you make an excuse for something. Excuses are unexceptable to her. And if you make up an excuse--real or not--she will write you off for days. She doesn't deal with failure.

I will probably always have a friend like this in my life. I need a friend like this. And when she's hating on me (like this moment... ugh) I feel horrible and small. It's almost masochistic. I need it. Neeeeeeeeeeedddd  iiiittttttttttt.......


This brings me to the third kind of hater. The worst kind. The kind that is dragging me down every day. And the worst part of it, he doesn't do it consciously.

*Sigh*

I recently joined a gym and was super motivated to work out, get into shape and get my life back. I was tired of being a depressed zombie, roaming about my house moaning and crying about stupid stuff. I knew that a little exercise could do nothing but help. My husband and I decided to join together. He's been wanting to exercise as well and we thought it would be beneficial to both of us, not to mention show our kids that we care about health and exercise too instead of shoving it down their throats. Lead by example, you know?

So, the first time I went to the gym the husband was happy to stay at home, watch the little ones. Or so he said. I was gone a little over an hour and I got home to a ration of crap because I was gone "too long". Both kids were home sick from school but they were not doing anything so I figured it wasn't a big deal if I took my time. And it shouldn't have been a big deal.  That afternoon, my son's ear infection resulted in a ruptured ear drum, I had to rush him to urgent care, which meant my sick daughter had to stay home with her dad. That he had no problem with even though I was gone almost 3 hours.

The next time I decided to go we got into an argument. I left angry. I came home angry but he was super apologetic. So I let it slide.  Today, I mentioned going to the gym again and guess what? He was suddenly too tired to stay awake to watch the kids, he gave me a ration of excuses for me not to go (one being I still have one sick kid). I swear, he has the guilt skills of a Catholic grandmother! So I didn't go, he went to bed and I'm left here feeling crappy.

So why is he a hater? I think... and I believe it to be true because he has mentioned this before--he doesn't want me to go to the gym. He doesn't want me to lose weight and look and feel better. Because if I look and feel better, I will leave him. Because every fat girlfriend he's ever had did that. They lost weight, felt better about themselves and left him. So because all those crazy bitches did that, I must be doing it too. Nevermind the 10 years we've spent together. Nevermind the two kids we created and are raising together. Nevermind all that. I was just biding my time to hit the gym and leave him.  He doesn't want me to be better because if I was I wouldn't need him as much and then where would he be? So instead he will do everything in his power to hate on me whenever I mention going to the gym. Or going on a diet... don't even get me started on that! He sabotages that before it even starts. I mention diet and suddenly they are more chips and cookies and crackers on the counter.

I am defenseless against it. I don't want to argue and I refuse to be the nagging wife.

But today, I after he went to bed I had a revelation.

I am NOT going to let these people keep me down. I am going to do something for myself and I am going to get it done. I'm not going to use my unsupportive family as an excuse. I'm not going to use the shame of failure from cheerleader friend as an excuse. And I sure as hell am not going to use a little argument and my husband's insecurity as an excuse. I'm getting my shit done.

I'm going to be a doer. I refuse to be sent to the yellow bench ever again.*

*The story with the yellow bench: In middle school there was a yellow bench in front of the principal's office. The school's big thing was "Be a Doer" which was a cheap and easy way of saying the same thing my kids' school says "Be Safe, Respectful and Responsible".  Well, at my middle school, if you were caught not being a doer, you got sent to the yellow bench. For the past 25 years, I will always associate the yellow bench as a cruel and humiliating punishment to failure. It was in the middle of the school yard and if you were there, your friends--and the whole school--could see and laugh and make fun of you. We would laugh at those kids on the yellow bench, "Ha ha! You aren't a doer!" I still shutter when I think of it.