I Know This Much Is NOT True

No doubt I still have a way to go, but I’m taking a minute to marvel at the distance I’ve traveled emotionally over the past several years. There was a time when the sheer number of “truths” I’d accepted, and in turn promoted, without question, might give even the most zealous cult member pause. Now that I’m feeling better (don’t you love understatement?), I’ve debunked so many of the myths that used to control my life. And while I may still be discovering my truth, as I recently discussed here, I now have a firm grasp on what is not true for me.

In a twisted nod to one of my favorite novels, I Know This Much is True, by Wally Lamb (and its outstanding streaming adaptation with virtuoso performances by Mark Ruffalo--check it out), and in keeping with my fascination with lists as a tool for gently approaching thorny subjects, I’m sharing some of the things I’ve learned:

I am not too sensitive (or, as my mother casually remarked when I was about eight, “psycho”) because I feel pain.

I do not lack common sense, despite enjoying the exercise of my intellect.

I am not uncoordinated or bad at sports or generally awkward.

I am not naïve because I choose not to be bigoted or paranoid or mean.

I am not worth less (or worthless), nor should I aspire to less, because I’m female.

I am not unattractive (not overweight, not poorly proportioned, not garish, not unfeminine, not frumpy).

There is not always someone to blame.

There are so many more shades than black or white.

My initial reluctance to have children had absolutely nothing to do with selfishness.

Having a husband or a boyfriend is not a requirement for a happy or successful life (more understatement!)

I am not a hapless victim of circumstance.

I am not keeping myself safe by not speaking my truth.

I am not needy (or vulgar or inferior) because I desire human connection.

I am not broken.

I am not going to heal and grow if I can’t name and feel my feelings. There are no shortcuts.

Considering my own needs does not make me self-centered.

My worthiness is not measured by my productivity.

Family does not always come first. Nor will they necessarily always be there.

Being thoughtfully involved in my children’s lives did not make me a helicopter mother.

I was never lazy, or crazy, or selfish because I didn’t do what others expected of me.

Although it’s lovely when it happens, I don’t need anyone to remind me that I’m lovable.

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Thanks for reading! Are there “truths” about yourself and your life that you’ve jettisoned?