This question is a bit difficult for me to answer. I find that the answer is not as concrete as I’d like it to be. Maybe this is how writing will help me figure it out.
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The first thing that comes to mind is from something that actually happened today. I was sitting at a doctor’s appointment with my father and my sister and I could feel my father’s tension levels rising as I quietly observed the interaction between him and my sister as they answered the doctor’s questions. Luckily, the doctor got called away for a few minutes to deal with an emergency just as I felt my father was about to “blow his fuse” and it was the perfect time for me to lean in to speak calmly to my father and gently diffuse his anger until he felt in control once more. This happened a few times, at various levels throughout the appointment and I realized, as we walked away and my father said “I like it when you’re there. You make it feel better” that diffusing tensions during difficult conversations is something I’m really good at. I had forgotten that. I’m a really good mediator!
We are 3 girls in my family, and although I’m the youngest, I’ve always been the mediator between my two sisters who were often on completely different wavelengths growing up, and even sometimes now, as adults.
I also seem to process or perceive things differently than others. If you recall my Day 2 Challenge post, I talked about always having been the good listener, the natural therapist. I think that maybe it’s because I offer people a different perspective on things. It’s true that sometimes, when we’re right smack in the middle of a situation that has our emotions flaring in a big way, it’s hard for us to process things logically. And I’ve always been “the logical one”.
“How logical are you?” you ask.
Well, I’m so logical that during my first pregnancy (yes, I was pregnant once, before my daughter was born), on the day that my partner and I found out that there was something seriously wrong with my baby (it was during my 2nd ultrasound at 18 weeks, when you’re normally supposed to find out if it’s a boy or a girl), and that the likelihood of him surviving birth were almost none, I immediately looked at the doctor and said “Ok. So what’s the next step? How do we terminate the pregnancy?” The doctor looked at me and blinked a few times, stunned. She offered “you don’t have to make a decision right away. You can take some time to think about it.” to which I replied “No no. I’m good. I’m not going to subject myself, my partner, or this baby to unnecessary pain just because I’m too selfish to do the right thing”. My poor partner was a giant mess sitting right next to me, and I was all business.
What’s my point? …. oh yes – my different perspective.
Perhaps one of the reasons why I’m seeking my Master in Counselling Psychology is that I’ve always seemed to be able to set my emotions aside, in times of need, to gain clarity on what needs to be done. This makes me a great listener because even if the person I was talking to was seeking advice or wanting to vent about something that had to do with me, I was still able to set my own opinions and emotions aside to offer an objective perspective.
I have no idea how to translate that into something that people thank me for. But I do know that helping people figure things out, by offering a different perspective, is something that makes me feel good; and I think I’m pretty good at it!
By the way, I did let my emotions flow about my doomed pregnancy once it was over. I’m not a COMPLETE robot.
[WARNING: The following explanation could be disturbing to some people]
We couldn’t just do an abortion because I was too far in at 18 weeks. My body should have rejected the pregnancy when something went wrong (i.e. I should have had a miscarriage) and I DID have signs of a miscarriage in the first few weeks, but I guess it didn’t follow through. Perhaps subconsciously, I knew something was wrong with my baby, which was why I wasn’t surprised when the doctor told me the news. My pregnancy felt “off” from the beginning and I never settled into that “being excited to be pregnant” feeling. So we had to induce labour which is no easy feat when my pregnant body believes it’s nowhere near time to give birth. I’ll spare you the rest of the ugly details but after a difficult couple of weeks, the “danger” had passed, and I couldn’t keep up the strong face anymore. My post-pregnancy hormones also kicked in, which made it extremely difficult for me to control my emotions or find any logic in them. I struggled for a few months but soon, I started to feel better, and 6 months later I was pregnant again (I had a perfect pregnancy) and my beautiful daughter was born. We named our “first” child David, and I tell my daughter all the time that her big brother is “up there” watching over her.
A tear for David. Hard not to be emotional while reading this one.