I am not fun

Let me preface this by saying: I am not in the same place I was yesterday. Yesterday there was some serious funk going on. Today, not so much. However, the fight my husband and I got in the other night (the one I mentioned yesterday where he was trying be funny and I was NOT taking was he was putting out there)… well, that did get me thinking.

I had a realization several months ago that I am not fun. I can have fun and I can do fun things. But I – myself as a whole – am not fun.

I learned this fact after a different fight with my husband where he accused me of being “no fun”. I can’t recall any of the details but I remember thinking, How can he say I’m not fun?

So I did what any other self-respecting female would do… Called a friend and vented. And more or less, she confirmed, I’m not fun.

What?? I am not fun? But my husband and I had Disneyland annual passes for two years! Isn’t that fun? We danced the cha cha slide at our wedding! But those are things we do, not who we are. (Besides, the fun quotient in both of those examples is questionable to say the least).

Back in the days when I still thought I was fun

I am one of those people who:

  • Views life through a glass-half-empty lens
  • Has the “gift of administration”
  • Is in bed by 10pm on week nights
  • Has to get home from vacation at least one day before going back to work so I can get things done around the house
  • Spends hours trying to decide if I want to buy that shirt or pair of shoes despite the fact that I love them… but can’t decide if I love them enough to actually buy them

I mean really… I’m a bore.

But the older I get, the more I realize, I am who I am. And as my friend said during that brutally honest conversation about how unfun I am, my husband knew this before he married me so he can’t complain about it now. I forgave her for the unfun part when she said that.

It’s true though. There are no surprises anymore. I am not fun, among a million other positive and negative qualities, all of which make me, me. And I am okay with it.

Part of my life journey has been about accepting myself for who I am. I used to want to be like everyone else. In fact, I went through a phase in Junior High where I spoke with a lisp (despite not actually having one) and tried to convince my parents and everyone else who crossed my path that I really did have a lisp. I would become fixated on these qualities I saw in other people that I just had to have for myself… as though they were a cute pair of sunglasses or an article of clothing.

Not anymore.

Yes, I vow to always remain open to growth (yesterday’s mantra) but at the same time, I will accept the qualities that define me, as me, stop just learning to live with them and instead actually embrace them.

What qualities make you, you?

 

 

Comments

  1. This is one of my favorite posts yet. Thank you Angela :)

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