I Won’t Feel Less Than Anymore

By Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

Not long ago, a friend invited me out for a drink. After thirty minutes, I walked out on him. In the past my leaving would have caused me to become awash in guilt and regrets. Instead, I felt really good about myself.

It has taken up until this point in my life, well past the midterm of my forties, to realize that I don’t have to put up with people’s nonsense. Life is too precious to spend time with those who make me feel less than.

You know what I mean, those people who make you feel less than happy, less than smart, less than appreciated, less than loved. Those people who you spend time with because you were expected too, or worse, because you were too polite to avoid them.

Others freely accuse me of being unfiltered (doesn’t that make them unfiltered?) or blunt. The truth is, I hold my tongue more often than not. The result, I have spent my life feeling less than because I felt obligated to tolerate others who don’t raise me up, who don’t like me for me.

8 Ways to Not Feel Less Than

1. Tell people when they have hurt or offended you

2. Be true to yourself

3. Be proud of who you are

4. Be kind and open

5. Demand respect and honesty from others

6. Don’t keep toxic people in your life

7. Don’t engage with intolerant people

8. When a witty, intelligent retort is not available, flip the bird

Perhaps it was my Catholic school upbringing which taught me to be courteous and kind to others no- matter-what. At the age I am now, I recognize that I’m tired of it, fed up, done. Catholic guilt be damned! I’m taking charge.

Now, I feel like the stereotypical old person who is regarded as a curmudgeon. I am not a curmudgeon! I am just not going to put up with crap. I have better things to do, like take a nap or paddle my kayak, than hangout with folks who are rude or unkind or unsupportive. I welcome all words and ideas born from love and respect, otherwise I’m out. 

That old friend I left in the bar with his half-finished beer and his ridicule laced smirk, he did not speak to me with love or respect, so I’m done with him.

Over the years I have weeded people from my life. Ending friendships as an adult is a risky thing. Finding new friends in my forties has not been easy. The awesome thing is that now that I am my authentic self, people who have been in my life for years have become friends. Most importantly, I have met and welcomed new women into my life. These women have proven to be amazing and kind and genuine.

Unkind people have flitted in and out of my life. I recall many, many years ago when my husband and I had planned a big night out to celebrate an anniversary. I splurged on a new faux suede skirt and a silk blouse. I felt pretty, not princess pretty, but pretty enough.  I was excited about our splurge dinner in the big city. We arrived at the restaurant. The tuxedoed maître d seated us in a beautiful booth in the ornate dining room. After admiring the marble and gold details, I excused myself to use the restroom.

There were several women primping and preening in the mirror. It was obvious that they were older and wealthier than I. One older woman looked me up from top to bottom in an obvious display of disgust. I was not aware of how I offended her until she spoke. With no kindness in her eyes or tone she snapped, “Don’t worry honey I own a skirt that doesn’t fit me too.” With that, she strutted out leaving the door to slam behind her. I stood stunned trying to decipher her words. It took a moment before the insult sunk in.

I am no different than most as it takes a few minutes to conjure up the wittiest and/or most searing retort on the planet. If we could just push a pause button when put in a situation where a clever comeback is needed, we would be able to express ourselves with eloquence and intelligence. We would be able to leave bad situations with our heads held high and pride oozing from every pore. Dignity would be restored, our self-images would bloom. We would be able to sleep soundly knowing we put that fool in his or her place. 

Of course, the person we need to deliver our comeback to is long gone by the time we formulate our Pulitzer prize winning response. Let’s face it, calling friends and family to tell them what I should have said really lacks the drama and release I seek.

If that skirt snub happened today, I am certain I would simply call that snooty, judgy, rude women an asshole and tell her to shut-it. Sometimes brevity and directness is the best weapon. But I do wish I had the dressing down skills of Julia Sugarbaker from Designing Women.

My new sassy attitude manifests itself in other ways. The other day my impatience for rude people shown through in a flash point of anger. In retrospect, I really ended up being the asshole by putting myself and others at risk, but it sure felt good. In my defense, the other person was ruder. I approached from behind a car stopped at a red light in the left-hand tunr lane. Just as I began to get close enough to slow for the stop, the light switched to green. I continued to slow as the car did not move. It became clear she was not moving with exception of her fingers which were furiously texting rendering her oblivious to the new status of the traffic light.

Rather than pressing the break to come to a complete stop or compressing the horn pad on my steering wheel to let out a gently "hey you, move" signal, I applied pressure to the accelerator and swerved around the car making a left turn in front of her. It was exhilarating and stupid. She was startled back to reality as I completed my turn and turned left after I cleared the intersection. I decided, in that moment, that she was not worth the energy it would take to beep or my time that I would have to forfeit if I stopped and waited for her to proceed. Rude people should not impede my forward progress in this world.

If someone cuts in front of me in line or crashes into me without apology, I snarkily ask them, "Was I in your way?” No silent seething or muttering under my breath for me. Just full-on irritation. If a couple walking toward me on a narrow sidewalk won’t form a single file to pass, I stop in my place and make them walk around me or crash into me, their choice. Have some manners people!

http://www.pennlive.com/midstate/index.ssf/2012/08/rules_of_the_road_theres_littl.html

My newest mission is to use the merge point in construction zones as they were intended. All cars should stay in their lane up until the merge point. At the merge point, cars alternate turns into the open lane. Stacking up in a single lane a mile before the merge point actually slows down traffic. Those of us who stay in and use the Zipper lane are doing the right thing. Those of you who curse and rage at the car that speeds past you as you wait your turn, are in the wrong. Those of you who refuse to allow the mergers in are doing the wrong thing. I used to be one of you. I used to wait for twenty minutes while asshole drivers sped past and forced their way into the open lane of traffic. Now I am one of those “assholes” and I can live with myself because that is how it is supposed to be done!

Drivers unite. Merge at the merge point. Make construction traffic better!

My forties have enabled me to just not care so much about what others think. That not caring has freed me from the chains of trying too hard to please. Even though I feel freer to speak my mind, I also recognize when it is wise just to hold my tongue. I make fewer faux pas statements because I am not so needy and eager to join-in and be accepted. I also have learned that I can’t change people. I opt to not engage in conversations with or respond to intolerant people. I walk away and live my life with dignity and respect for myself. Even if that means I flip the bird more than I ever have. Give it a try, I highly recommend it

I can’t wait for my fifties and sixties! What fresh hell will I raise then?

Tuesdays with My Daughters: A Summer of Lessons

By: Elizabeth Redhead Kriston

When my boss offered to schedule me off on Tuesday's this past Summer so I could spend more time with my girls, I supposed it would be like years past when I would ask them to accompany me on some mini adventure and they would roll their collective eyeballs at me and retreat to their separate rooms isolating themselves from the outside world and me within the thick plaster walls behind heavy wooden doors.

This year I took a different tack, I didn't ask. Instead, I planned our Tuesday adventures and then rounded them up, and, for lack of a more fitting word, forced them to tag along. I wouldn't say our Tuesday's resembled Mitch Alboms, Tuesdays with Morrie, but I haven't read that book so maybe they were. I just wanted to find a way to connect with my rapidly growing and maturing daughters before they no longer have the time to make time for me. Maybe, through experiences, I could even teach them a thing or two.

“Detachment doesn’t mean you don’t let the experience penetrate you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That’s how you are able to leave it." From Tuesdays with Morrie

Once my girls relented to my plan, were able to keep their eyes forward and stop huffing and puffing in disgust, I liked to think that they had fun. I did not prophetize at them. Instead I just tried to remain calm and push-on no matter what obstacle we faced in each day. I tried to remain positive and point out all the good things, rather than focus on the negatives, and we had a lot of things go wrong.

The Lessons of Our Summer

June 7, Windmere Island, Bahamas

My daughters learned that 14 hours of difficult and exhausting travel will be rewarded. They learned that the type of tired that makes bones and brain ache can be instantaneously alleviated by eating hot dogs on soft, pink sand beaches while feeling the setting sun kiss their cheeks and soft breezes ruffle their hair while staring at crystal clear waters of so many shades of blue you question your definitions of blue and ocean.

June 13, Windemere Island, Bahamas

My daughters learned that even a week in paradise can be hard. They learned how to make lemons from lemonade. They learned how to snorkel in rough waters. They learned how to kick the crap out of a rental car as you try to beat the bumper back in place after crashing it for the third time in a week. They learned how take cold showers on the beach and flush toilets with buckets of water. They learned how, no matter what, to be thankful for a sky full of stars so plentiful and so bright that you get dizzy looking up at them.

June 20, Philedelphia Street, Indiana, Pennsylvania

One daughter learned how to weasel her way out of a day with her mom. One daughter learned how to make a fun day out of spending time on main street. She learned how to window shop and that "no, we are not buying actual windows." She learned how to sip a coffee rather than gulp it. She learned the value of shopping local businesses and making small talk with shop owners and our neighbors.

June 27, Gatlinburg, Tennessee

My daughters learned that even after a year or two of separation, you can reconnect with loved ones as they spent a week with extended family in the mountains of Tennessee.

July 4, Backyard, Indiana, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned that spending time at home doing chores and cooking out with the parents is "fun." They learned how to weed the garden and cut the grass. They learned that family traditions, even small ones, are so important as we sat on the roof and watched the fireworks that filled the sky around us once again.

July 11, Seven Springs Mountain Resort, Champion, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned that even rain and cold can't keep us down, but a sleepless night can. They learned that facing ones fears is important and possible even it is not pretty as they watched their mother cry, shake and sweat as I rode the ski lift to the top of a mountain despite my paralyzing fear of heights.

“Accept who you are; and revel in it.” From Tuesdays with Morrie

July 18, Blue Spruce Park, Indiana, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned that despite arguing and complaining all the way there that we can have fun if we choose to just let go of our anger. That by not responding to the hurtful things we say to each other even the most irrational statements and claims can pass and we can have fun together. They learned if we take a moment to look around and listen, we can see the beauty in what is around us and in each other. They learned that the ride home can be filled with blaring music and asynchronous voices filling the car as we sing pop songs and laugh.

“Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you’re bound to do something else.” From Tuesdays with Morrie

July 25 Saltsburg River Trail and West Penn Trail , Saltsburg, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned that discovering new places is amazing. They learned that getting lost can be stressful, but ultimately, Maddie has an excellent sense of direction and she can get us home no matter what. Seriously, that girl should be a professional compass for a living, she has mad skills.

August 1 Ohiopyle, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned how an abundance of rain can make a body of water violent and unusable. They learned to deal with disappointment. They learned how to make lemonade from lemons. They discovered another new place as we biked a beautiful path in the woods along a river. They learned that they should put bug spray on when their mother suggests it would be "a really good idea and they might regret it if they don't." Oh, who am I kidding? They will never learn to listen to and accept my wisdom.

August 8, Home Alone, Indiana, PA

They learned to miss me terribly, and our Tuesday adventures.

August 15 Delgrosso Amusement Park, Tipton, Pennsylvania

My daughters learned that their mother is awesome because she took them to a fun water park to celebrate the last Tuesday before school started. I learned that my kids have no stamina and that spending gobs of money on an amusement park is crazy because they want to leave after a few hours.

I am grateful for having a summer of adventures big and small with my daughters. I learned so much about them and from them. Maybe they are my Morrie. They make me live a better life.

“As you grow, you learn more. Aging is not just decay…it’s growth. It’s more than the negative that you’re going to die, it’s also the positive that you understand that you’re going to die, and that you live a better life because of it.” From Tuesdays with Morrie