I often joke how I blame all my problems on Santa Claus. This Father’s Day I ran across a card that said
“Even though you lied about Santa, I still love you. Happy Father’s Day!”
I was one of those kids who really believed. I’m a
believer sucker. When my friends were telling me [in the 4th grade, I’m not even kidding] that the fat red suited man was really just my parents, I assured them they were wrong. I was in the restroom during P.E., my most dreaded class, with my best friend. That’s what happens when girls go to the restroom together - real talk! Readjusting my polka dotted slap bracelet in a vibrant lime green, I grew very quiet. I would’ve walked outside to clear my head, but while dodging a ball is one thing, dodging playing dodge ball was quite an art that required long bathroom intervals.
How could EVERY parent keep up the same lie, I argued? It’s too crazy of a story to be made up. There’s no way all of our parents would lie to us. In my best Sherlock Holmes manner, I began to look for signs that my parents were guilty of this crime. As you can imagine, I found my Christmas list in my mom’s purse with items checked off (gasp) along with other things that finally brought me around to the dark side. When we believe something, it is sometimes hard to see contrary evidence. Everything fits our story. Until it doesn’t. Truth reigns. If we’re honest, deep down, we knew it all along. Betrayed, I felt the pit in my stomach as I confronted this ugly reality. Santa does not exist.
If you’re just finding this out, my deepest condolences for your loss. You will get through this, but not without cookies, milk and a 12 step program. It’s really only partly true, however, so don’t go dunking cookies just yet. My mom was correct when she said that as long as you believe, wink wink, Santa will still visit. The truth is Santa did and does exist, he’s just not this one magical person. Well, unless you’re Criss Angel or Oprah’s kid I suppose, in which case who cares if Santa exists or not, my mommy/daddy just got me my own magical sleigh.
Santa is not only our parents but a Christmas spirit of sorts. Santa does exist in a less inspiring tale of extended credit and shopping haze. As far as which is better news, the former or the latter, that is up to you to decide. Let’s put it this way, Santa still comes to my house, wink wink.
Stay tuned for how playing with Barbies ruined my self esteem and distorted my self-perception.
My endor-friends are some of my best friends. This morning’s jog, with money on my mind, was a reminder for me. I am love and money is a means of showing love & appreciation. “Why would I withhold love and appreciation from myself?” I asked myself. The simple act of acknowledging that I & money are love automatically lifted my perspective. It made money a friendly thing, not a thing to fret about. Did it solve my problem? It depends what you see the problem to be. Money did not appear in thin air, if that’s what you mean.
The skeptical side of me began accusing me of being one of “those mushy, dreamy, love” people and to get real. Passing a billboard with a giant Mickey D’s burger on it, I distracted her highness with Daft Punk, continuing to ponder this miracle. And no, the quarter pound burger is not the miracle I speak of.
Am I willing to accept love and appreciation? When someone shows me love or appreciation in the form of a complement or by paying me for something I did, how do I feel? Do I feel worthy? Do I dismiss the complement? Do I accept lower pay? Part of me believes the sky is the limit and I deserve the best. Looking at my actions, if I’m honest, however, reveals that there is a part of me not comfortable with receiving love. It’s a difficult thing to admit. I consider myself a pretty loving person. Should I join the Loveless Anonymous (L.A.?) group and call it a year?
So basically, running is a free therapy session, plus I get to burn calories! It’s 11:11 as I write this. Of course it is! I love a good story coming together - timing is everything. And this is the time.
My endor-friends are wearing off, so I’m slowly coming back to reality. Temptation to feel inadequate does not wait ‘til happy hour. You know what they don’t say, it’s 11:11 somewhere…
We’re playing LA on Sept 3 at the Greek Theatre with @OurNameIsFun! Pre-sale starts today at noon! Password is SOMENIGHTS http://www.ticketmaster.com/event/09004A3FE14B6A9B
Yay! I got tickets today and can’t believe I have to wait so long! :D
oh spring! what is something you are beginning or doing different this month?