I went through a really long phase after high school that lasted until a year or two ago in which I was really bad at receiving gifts. Well, not even just gifts. I was too insecure to accept compliments, offers of help in times of need, presents, encouragement, you name it. I must have babysat for like a thousand families for free because I didn't know how to answer the question parents like to ask that goes, "how much do you charge?". I would always just wave my hands frantically in the air in front of me and insist that this was a favour and no money was expected. My friends would always tell me that this was something I needed to work on, but I didn't know how. I remember one Christmas my best friend was trying to give me a really sweet, meaningful gift, and I hid. Literally. Like, went into a bedroom and hid. Looking back now I can't even remember what I was so afraid of. But perhaps it has something to do with not placing enough value in myself. I didn't think I was worth anything. I thought it was a waste of time for people, even loved ones, to invest anything in this broken girl.
The irony is that one of my prominent love languages is receiving. Interesting, hey?
There is definitely no defined period in my life where this aversion to receiving ended. I can't remember waking up one day and deciding that from now I would cheerfully let people help me and give me things. And actually, to be honest I am still too freaking stubborn sometimes to let people help. But somewhere along the way, somewhere between learning to love myself and learning to love others, I also learned a valuable lesson: people are insulted when you refuse their offers of tangible love. Another huge love language in this world is giving. It is a currency of love. That's huge.
When I hid from my best friend and her Christmas present, I imagine her feelings were quite hurt. I know I feel hurt when someone who I know needs help won't let me in.
It's become increasingly easier to receive these past few years, mainly because in some ways I haven't had a choice. When I decided that the last time I threw up on purpose would BE the last time I threw up on purpose, there was no possible way I could move forward without tons of help. That help came in the form of late night phone calls, accountability, prayer, flowers, support. Imagine if I had refused that...there is no way I could be where I am today if not for that outpouring of love.
So yes, this week seems to be the week when we cash in for every toddler-induced migraine, every pair of pants that were ruined by food colouring, every time we answered the same question 500 times, every 'accident' we cleaned up, every trip to the storage room, every bandaid we applied to unseen owies, and every ounce of patience that was mustered these past 10 months. Parents have seriously gone overboard with the gifts this time (and we thought Christmas was bad). There is one parent in particular who doubles as a faithful blog-follower and deserves an extra huge thank you for her gift to me. Seriously lady, I can't thank you enough.
So while I am pouring my heart out to you guys about how I am selfish, irony kicks me in the pantz and shows me what giving looks like. So thank you, lesson. Dually noted.
Wish me luck tomorrow at the year-end bbq. Nearly 100 people will be in attendance, 55 of them my kiddies who I so often portray as little rugrats, but who, in complete and utter truth, hold my heart in each of their tiny little paint-smeared hands. It's been totally and completely worth it. All of it.
It's time to say goodbye to all our friends....
It's time to say goodbye to all our friends....
It's time to say goodbye with a smile and a wave
It's time to say goodbye to all our friends.
~C~
