Women of a certain age.

That's true for you. You did some reflecting. Some analyzing. You learned. But I'm sure that we've both met people who don't learn. Who don't understand why the same ooky thing keeps happening to them in their personal relationships.

I already deleted two responses. Trying to fight my nature. I'm clicking on this response, and then I'm gonna shut up. I promise.

Roberta, my dear, you absolutely do not have to shut up unless you want to! :wink:

.... & please stop fighting your nature this minute!
You'll do yourself an injury & it's not good for you!

Why are we humans so complicated?
This nice thing has been making me do some thinking...

When I get to be a certain age, will I be as smart and witty and sensible and kind and wise as you women here?

The other day I went to the Art Store at my old college. I hadn't been in there in at least 7 years. I realized as I walked around the store, that I am not as self-concious as I used to be. Not as nervous. No longer scared.
I wished I had been like that 18 years ago.
So I'm not as shy as I used to be.

I still find myself a bit shy. Like here.
Another fear is tripping over my words, not saying what I mean clearly and sounding like a fool. Looking like an idiot to people that don't know me. (for some reason, I don't mind looking like an idiot in front of freinds and family)

Yes, I understand fighting basic nature.
And, I agree with Roberta, that I find myself a huge pain in the patushie.

So, do you think that fighting your basic nature and winning, just takes time and practice?

Or at a "certain" age do you just accept yourself, flaws and all?

I think it's called 'growing into your skin'. Some call it 'growing young'.
Key word is 'grow'.

Altho insured
Remember, kiddo
They don't pay you
They pay
Your widow
Burma-Shave

Remember these?


klik me!

Some of us, such as myself, simply outlive those worst hangups. I suppose therapy, for some, might speed the process. I can easily conceive that there are some who never totally grow up. I think, also, living in an environment that can't regularly trigger lifelong phobias and the like can be one of the best moves one can make. Not so easy as it may seem.

Yes, I remember Burma Shave signs along the road; and these wonderful discussions.

Hello everyone.

Hi, Sumac.

Hiya, osso.

That's nice. :wink:

In other words, sometmes it's sarcastic to be nice and other times it's nice to be nice.

Thanks for your offer. Will have that in mind the next time I'm in New Mexico.

.
.
.

I don't think there's anything wrong with social niceness, I think it's a time saver. But being nice to people you care for just to avoid certain situations makes life a succession of gray days.

I was programmed to be nice so being myself doesn't come without guilt. That's the next step I must take in my life: getting rid of guilt of being myself. Glad to hear you've been able to do it. It must really stink to not accomplish that in life.

"But being nice to people you care for just to avoid certain situations makes life a succession of gray days."

That's a wise comment and made me think.

On the other hand, taking a look at your habitual behaviour towards them might reveal that we snipe, nag, bitch and disrespect the people we love most, more often than we should. Even those of us who were programmed to be nice, are mainly nicer to strangers.

Yes, Clary, we are "polite" (a form of nice-ness) to people in public contexts (that's what polite/polity/politics, etc refers to). We are not polite in intimate situations; that would negate the intimacy of those situations.
But we can be identified as compassionate, considerate, gentle, sincere, honest, appreciative, (even affectionate) in both public and private places. I think we would like to be identified with such terms rather than the tepid and non-specific "nice."

Hi Sumac! Glad you're here to add to the discussion. It's good to have people posting when I do one of my leave of abscences from a2k.

Gelisgesti, thanks for the memories. When we would drive from Tucson to Colorado to visit relatives, when I was a kid, we passed lots of Burma Shave signs. We all loved them, especially while driving through some pretty desolate, lonely country.

It's nice to get all that niceness out of the way. Msolga, I think many of us don't feel 'worthy' enough to be nice to ourselves when it involves not being there for everyone else. For me to leave a marriage of 34 years took so much looking inward and pep talks to myself. I guess the fact that I was 60 years old was the deciding factor. Did I want to live my life numbing myself to the unhappiness? Did I finally deserve to take a step that was for myself alone? A friend of mine told me of an elderly woman she knew who had always been unhappy in her marriage. Her answer was to stop taking her medications, resulting in a fatal heart attack. That really hit close to home, because suicide had been on my mind as the only was to escape the unhappiness.

Oh, by the way Roberta, I'm with msolga, please don't ever try to change. I love your pithiness, sardonic replies and lack of putting up with fools. You're even better in person.

Thank heaven I came to my senses and did the selfish thing!! It still amazes me after four years, that there can be this much happiness between two people. And I finally realized that I truly did the right thing, that I would have died feeling a failure and a coward.

Caribou, I hope you understand that many of us here on a2k sometimes post a reply and then think how silly it must sound to others who could take it a number of different ways. The strength and the weakness of a2k or any online site, is that we don't have the usual cues one has in person--no body language, no looks that could be distracting, no clue as to the wealth or poverty of the other person and no clue as to whether or not there is a physical disability. All of that is pretty wonderful as far as I'm concerned. But--it is sometimes impossible to communicate exactly what you mean to a group of people who have never seen you or heard how you speak. That risk of misunderstanding is worth it, but it can be very uncomfortable at times. Now that I've been on so long, I find that the people I want most to understand me, the less I have to worry. There are some who choose to misunderstand and they don't affect my enjoyment of this medium, although I do need occassional breaks.

Edgar, you are always right there with your understanding and down-to-earth responses. For me, it involved a combination of growing out of it and getting therapy.

Several years ago, I saw a special about a teacher in one of Boston's poorest neighborhoods. In her classroom, time was spent on learning manners. I think the kids were around eight or nine years old.

At the beggining of the year, she told her students that they would spend time each day learning manners and learning how to talk in social situations. At the end of the lessons, they would all go out to a nice restaurant for dinner. (A local restaurant had agreed to help with the expense).

The camera followed the students to the restaurant and showed them using the right fork, putting their napkins on their laps and making small talk. It might sound frivolous to some, but it was inspiring to me. One small boy looked at the girl next to him and complimented her on her dress.

I realized just how valuable the lesson was in helping the children to meet on a level playing field. They came for different backgrounds, but they could mix in almost any setting and feel comfortable with themselves. Wouldn't that go a long way toward preventing the resentment and anger that feeling out of place often brings on? Maybe gangs (I know this is a stretch) wouldn't be such a necessity if children could feel a part of society in general. Am I being naive?

Your thoughts.

Forgive the errors. Roberta, your editor's mind must be reeling, but you probably know how I would respond if you say anything. I love having friends who don't swoon when I swear.

That brings up another question. Isn't ripping a person to shreds using the best and most educated English just as bad as swearing at them? To me, swearing is a way of letting off steam. It is crude and vulgar, but that is also the way it is taken. The cuts of sarcastic, educated ripping apart can bleed for a long, long time.

Di - you said so much. I will return after I have digested it all.

This caught my eye ...




Klik

Huh? How's that for pithy? Diane, I don't know what you're referring to. Foist, I don't read with an editor's eye--unless somebody's paying me. Second, did you say a doity woid? Where? Thoid, you made the right decision. I often think back to that day in the place on 42nd Street. You were so torn. So fragile. So uncertain. I knew what I thought you should do. Would only offer support. Still breathing an occasional sigh of relief that you did what you did.




If somone says something that's intended to hurt, the language is mostly irrelevant, IMO. It's the intent and the pain that matter.

When I use foul language (which is often), it's usually because I'm pissed (also a common occurrence)--or for emphasis. But I'm hard-pressed to think of a time when I directed such stuff at a person.

Not sure where you're going, Diane. Just trying to keep up. Did I respond to your comment? I hope so.

I remember a place on, was it, 63rd and C Pk West, around the corner from the then dreadful YMCA.
The same dining place I did a catapult missing the one grey velvetty carpetted step, when Diane and I first had dinner when we met in NY. Maybe a day after I met you and some other friends, Roberta. Probably around the same time frame, or at least within a certain span, before or after that you two had your talk. Anyway, we sort of got our whole lives out over some foo foo dinner, and, as I remember, only one drink each, even though I catapulted on the step, that's my way, and caught myself still standing, indecorously, by the restaurant's front door, making it a sure thing Diane would never think of me in some formal way ever again.



Of course, Frank Apisa had to try to show me up with one better at the Pierre Au Tunnel some time later.