On my walk, yesterday, I was pondering all the things about my marriage that frustrated me–all those details which led to the demise of something hopeful….beautiful even. I kept running into the road block of Why. You know–the place upon that mental path of exploration which dead-ends into a big question mark. Why did that happen? Why did he do that? And I’d come up empty.

For me, that’s not the end of things. I have to turn over every stone, go over every scenario in my mind until I find that little Brenda Lee Johnson clue to suddenly give me the answer–the Why. I envy those who just say they don’t know and move to the next subject. But WHY? I desperately need to use my Spidey Senses and all my Mystery Machine deductive skills to come to an answer–and when I come up blanks, the frustration sets in.

Walking along the wooded path in the early morning quietness, I stopped my endless barrage of self-questions and asked myself: Becky–what are *you* getting out of this process? There’s no marriage left to save. There are no wagons to circle…..no village left to protect….. Why do the answers matter to you? Why are you using precious mental energy to rehash something in the past that’s done?

The answer is two-fold.

(1) Protection. If I know the why, I can keep that specific thing from happening again. If I figure out the reason, I can cut it off at the pass when it rears its ugly head. The future is safe. Knowledge is power. Knowledge is protection. (Stay with me, ya’ll)…

(2) Identity. John Daloney calls this Your Body Solving for X in his podcast. What is it about this women peering at me in the mirror that made her unworthy of effort, of respect, of love. The same is true about hurts from your childhood, your teen years, your past. We attempt to solve the equation throughout our adulthood to figure out that X factor–that reason we came up lacking…..and why did we do that??? See number 1. Protection.

We keep repeating this self exploration over and over–only it’s not self exploration in the enlightened manner, but rather in the whips and chains flagellation manner…. Our minds and bodies stay on alert to protect ourselves from this X factor danger–looking under every rock, behind every bush, in the depths of the closet……until we look around at the San Quentin walls we’ve created around us and just decide to STOP….or continue the process en perpetuity.

Yesterday, I was sitting on Lilibet’s couch sharing my epiphany….that I no longer needed to solve for X—to figure out the answers to all those burning questions–questions about situations no longer influencing my life–questions I will never be able to answer because the reasons are not about me. Let’s say that again in unison: the reasons were never about me. The reasons people do sucky things is they have their own sucky things going on in their own head. I can stay away from those people, I can forgive those people, but I cannot fix what they did in the past.

I shared with Lilibet my identity will no longer be of one who was seen as lacking because of another person’s actions, feelings, opinions, or omissions. I could see the excitement in her eyes. She asked me how that realization made me feel. Naming feelings….ugh….that is so hard….those feeling words. I came up with empowered, comforted, free–like I could exhale because I’m no longer responsible for knowing X…… She asked me to expand and I explained:

Well….now that I know the Why behind my tendencies……I can now Fix It… that’s empowering. I know…I know….facepalm… What can I say….I am an Olivia Pope level fixer. It’s a problem–I know.

Fixing situations is the way I control my surroundings–how I make everyone happy. It’s what makes me a Rock Star in my job. My entire identity is as a fixer. The thing is: there’s this little sparkly beautiful element to wanting people to be happy and having the skills to brighten someone’s day–to make magic happen. That is a beautiful thing I am super gifted with. Like with anything, though, there is a dark side to that coin, a sharp side to the double-edged sword, a magical power like the Ring of Power, which can start off for good, but wield a power to great to control. And then…the magic turns into oppression. Are you still here with me?

When my identity gets wrapped up in whether or not people are happy….having a good time….are feeling the warm fuzzies…things go sideways. When my identity is based on something outside of my control, I start controlling the landscape around me to get the outcome I want. When Becky can’t be happy if someone else is unhappy, that’s an identity issue. I am handing over the reins to my joy in exchange for controlling someone else’s joy.

And when I fail my quest to control their joy, I self-shame. I tick off all the things I should have done differently. I create a plan to eliminate that problem the next time and I put another brick in my emotional wall to insulate me from the pain of my failure. See, when I try to control someone’s happiness, I’m not engaging them as equals–I am not letting them have their own feelings and have autonomy over their own lives. When I attempt to control another person’s emotional state, the dynamic is not one of emotional intimacy, but rather one of perceived power over them.

What’s a Fixer Girl to do? Girl…slip off that ring of power and find your identity. Root your identity deep like the roots of Oak Trees…. bear fruit of your own identity and stop stealing fruit from others.

Me: my identity lies in being all things Becky: kind, trustworthy, sparkly, creative, compassionate, sassy, encouraging, and one who is unabashedly loved by God. I have to apologize to you now because deep inside, I really do think I’m His favorite–how can I not be? At least He makes me feel that way.

I can see the smile spreading to a twinkle in His eyes when He sees me running into His presence in bare feet, chipped pink toenail polish, my dress a bit muddy and ripped in a few places from Adventuring…..hair a mess, and my princess crown just a bit askew. When my feet go a bit too fast because I’m running late, and I trip and catch myself, a bit of glitter and a few tiny sea shells I gathered from my walk spill out of my pockets. (The angels declare: clean up on aisle 3!!) I twirl around in front of Him exclaiming I’m here! and asking forgiveness for being late…..but there were butterflies in my midst and I got distracted for a moment….but I’m here!! He knows me….He created me….heck, He may have even put those butterflies in my path simply for my pleasure and He’s delighted I noticed.

Yeah being Becky–all things sparkly princess Becky is a much better identity than handyman fixer Becky fixing all the things I’m not supposed to fix. They aren’t my job and that’s not who I’m supposed to be.

So here I am exchanging my tool belt for my crown. Will I grab for it again?? That’s a certainty. I’m sure I have a screwdriver or two in a junk drawer and I’ll have to root that out. But as for today, I’m choosing myself–my identity–the things in my own control (ie: me)–and leaving the rest to God and everyone else.

Cheers, ya’ll.

Next: https://divorceddivaguide.com/2023/01/25/broken-crayons-can-still-color/