Growing Up

A person I very much respected once told me that I was childish.  She didn't say that I was acting in a childish manner.  She said I was childish.  It hurt, but it also confused me.

I had grown up hearing how mature I was, and I really was, both physical and mentally.  We joked that I had been born 40.  When I was 12, someone tried to sell me encyclopedias for my children.  I was the responsible one.  I was the one that could see the bigger picture.  I was the one that took care of everyone and everything.  How was any of that childish?

Years of therapy helped, but didn't really make the pain of that comment go away.  Then today, it finally hit me.  She had an impressive vocabulary and an intellect that was both dazzling and at times frightening.  But that day, she didn't have the words to say what she really meant in the way I needed to hear it.

Now that I understand, I'm a little sad that I can't tell her that I finally figured it out.  Childish was the only word she had to tell me that I was living far below my true potential and that I was not all I could be yet.  I'm finally growing up.  I'm emerging from my people pleaser, co-dependent shell.  For the first time, the world and I can finally see who I really am.  I can claim what I want and what I need and what is important to me.  I can share my truth with my head held high.

I think she'd be proud.