Sacred Life Sunday: No Slime Zone!

Typical of so many women of my generation, I've been taught that subjugating my will to the preference of others is a sign of kindness, a sign of selflessness which is the cornerstone of a "good woman". Women of my mother's generation got that pounded into their consciousness even more than mine. It's a hard one to let go.

A few days ago, my housemate loaded a bucket of slime on me that actually caused me to physically recoil. It wasn't about me. She didn't insult me. She was talking about her own life in such hateful, negative and angry terms that I actually walked away from her. There's a time when I would have stood there and listened, figuring it was the kindest thing to do even though it made me feel horrible.

Last Sunday I sat through a class that made me feel slimed as well. It was a very dark, cold place with heartless people. It was harsh, judgmental and punitive. I recoiled.

Yet in both cases, I grappled long and hard with my right to remove myself from those kinds of environments. How does someone walk out on a woman who probably has Alzheimer's? It feels cruel. At the same time, I know it is not my responsibility to take care of her. That is her childrens' responsibility. It is up to her family to make sure her needs are met. I've singlehandedly taken that on for several years now and I feel done. I no longer choose to have that in my life and now I believe I have the right to make that choice.

This is a woman who has consistently shown absolutely no interest in my life or well-being. She has no boundaries. She doesn't know what it means to wait for a "come in" before walking right into my rented unit. It is assumed that I am always available to her for her concerns. She has a sense of entitlement that would send anyone over the edge. I'm sick and bloody tired of humoring her. I've never given her a thorough tongue-lashing even though she deserves it because she's old and sick. It seemed too far out of the range of civility for my personal tastes.

This is part of a larger constellation of changes I have been making. Most of my life has been consumed with the needs and wants of others. First it was my parents. Then my live-in boyfriend. Then it was my ex-husband. Then it was a boss or supervisor. Now it's this woman. It's always been someone else coming first.

Now I'm ready for a new apartment. I just found it this past week. The rent is reasonable and it's in a safe location. I will choose the people who come over. I will choose who has my phone number. I will decide when I want to answer the door and no one will come in unless I let them in. I will - finally - own my own existence in a healthy way. My place will be full of plants and pretty things. It will be a happy, peaceful... perhaps even joyful.. place.

A few months ago, someone on a newscast offhandedly said, "I never got the memo that told me I was supposed to have low self-regard and take crap from people." It was a young woman, filled with the confidence of youth and accomplishment.

I thought about that for a long time. I did get the memo. The women of my generation and before got that memo. It was marked "Urgent" and was written in bold print.

I've torn it up.



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