I’m Finally Growing Up (a Little, Anyway)…

1967 – My sister “Tootie” and I… she was my very first “Other Mother”.

Is it wrong that my sister has now become that person I have such a need to impress? The mother figure left to me that I somehow need to be proud of me?

I’ve always had issues with the idea that

I can do anything I want; instead, I wanted/needed validation for my life choices from the family that raised me, and for sooooooo long, I never felt I had that. Then my father died, followed by my mother two years later, and that validation rested with Ruby.

Then Ruby died, too, and I’ve been adrift and depressed since.

My sister has unknowingly been handed the baton of “person I must impress,” which is unfair to her. Aside from that, *I* want that designation. *I* need to be my one “person”, and yet I’ve been pitifully lax in managing to impress myself for my entire life – because I felt that all those other people were less than impressed with me, therefore I must be rather unimpressive, in spite of trying to improve.

I’m working on changing that. I’m making still another attempt at not just following my dreams, but attaining them this time. Maybe “it’s never too late”, as is the trendy mantra, but even though it’s not too late, it’s imperative now to finally admit that time is passing, and I’m surely running out of it at this point in my lifespan.

It’s time for self-validation, instead of tacking that responsibility onto the people that I love when I don’t even have the nerve to tell them that I’m hanging such an unfair responsibility on them, to begin with. It’s not Tootie’s responsibility to cheer me on.

And truthfully, unapologetically, I shouldn’t need her approval to carry on. I’ll be 55 years old on my next birthday. I may be finally growing up, and that scares me a little.

Still…. Onward! Upward, though? That remains to be seen.

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