As my age increases my tolerance for bullshit decreases. Grown ups tend to percolate in a sliding scale of bullshit making it either miserable or delightful to know them. We all travel on the continuum of drama and issues and general nonsense, the difference is where we choose to pitch our tent. God bless the people who have stuck with me when I have been in a season of heavy drama/high bullshit, for they are the ones who know my soul.
When I was 20 I went through a break up that begat much BS. My world felt dark and I wanted to drag everyone under the blanket of suffering with me. I cried a lot, said ugly things to beautiful friends, became manipulative, plotted evil and even accused my best friend of whispering about me – because all these things made sense at the time. In other words, I was the life of the party. But one day I woke up and I was over it. I packed up my tent and eased on down the road.
Before we move on, let’s review my example:
I was twenty.
Heart was broken.
I was TWENTY.
But I’m not 20 anymore. I’m 39 and I no longer linger in these emotions until they tilt my life sideways. I deal with them to the best of my ability and I continue on with my life. I don’t invite people to gather around my fire of shallowness so they will be burned too. I don’t camp out there anymore. I call it being a grown up.
So why is it hard to find good grown ups?
Well, the best I can figure is that some people never broke down their campsite. They are still pitching tents in their emotional shanty town. Occupy Bullshit. They are making a scene. They have created clever diversions making it hard to find the good grown ups. But the good grown ups? They’re out there.
I keep my good grown ups close, yes ma’am I do. And when I meet a new one I don’t let them get away without a fight. These are the people I want to travel with as we brave the continuum together. The ones who are just crazy enough to keep me on my toes yet resolute enough to tell me the truth. The ones who encourage and love actively; who show up because I need them, not because I asked them. The ones who I can laugh with, cry with, fall on my face with and celebrate with. The real ones. The good ones.
It’s hard to find good grown ups but the hunt is worth the reward.
Photo credit: Alan Stewart