Difficult
— on love and understanding
I hear that my body language is difficult to read.
I’m a proud person. God help my heart, I’m always asking him to break my rebellious need for independence. Still a work in progress but at least there’s progress. I grew up very needy and dependent. Think of the child that needs comfort hugs to eat, affirmations to breathe, would die at any criticism, yeah, I think I was that kid. Unfortunately, the world doesn’t work for sensitive people like us in that way. That made me resentful of frailty in myself. Like at the slightest sign of weakness or neediness, I gag. It takes a chunk out of my soul when I realise I need someone. Like need you to survive level need. It is always a panic inducing revelation
It was never this bad. But years of needing people and being disappointed by them has built up a distrust pattern in me. I was a very vocal child. My dad used to say it’s not good to promise me anything because I’d hound you. It was not entitlement. It was trust. And a genuine knowledge that people with good intentions can forget. My dad is the most attentive person I know. He’ll know from a simple 'hello' on the phone if my mood is off or about to veer off course. He used to sense my disappointment where people usually swiftly misinterpret as anger.
The funny thing is anger is an emotion I do not feel often. Hurt? Yes. Confusion? Absolutely. Disappointment? Very often. But anger, is a rare visitor. Because I come off as a bubbly person, any negative emotion from me is experienced in its extreme. I’m a feeler. A big one. That means I feel joy and hope with the same depth as I feel sadness and despair. But for the help of heaven, I’d probably have needed medication to regulate my intense emotions a long time ago. But thanks to my family, I have actually learnt to cope.
I learnt to distrust people because the world is full of people who say things they don’t mean. I was raised by a man who says what he means only and always. Always. If daddy says I’ll pick you up by 2, he’ll be there before 2 or by 2 on the dot. If anything changes, he’ll let me know as soon as it pops up. If you don’t know this about me, you’ll think I’m unbelievably difficult. But to me, being a reliable person is like a top need and as a believer, your word should be your bond or just be quiet. I know it’s extreme but a lot of my relationships have suffered because of this. I guess I may have not explained the extent of importance. I grew up with consistency and dedication. I also know when it’s not there. Once I sense it, I become on guard and begin to feel unsafe. I was chatting with my beloved friend about how wild it was for us, leaving home being raised by people like this, only to discover the rest of the world is not like that. Bruh, e dey perpetually amaze.
I like people who pay attention to details. Like how everyone in my life knows I don’t like lateness. It hurts me deeply, like soul-pressing hurt, when you keep me waiting, not to mention my favourite category of waiting, indefinitely. I’d rather you took a knife and sliced some fingers off my hands. Pretty graphic? I apologise but that’s how important it is to me.
When you keep me waiting, what my brain is interpreting is “your time is not important to me”, “you’re not important to me and I can waste your life and treat your most precious commodity however I want, because you don’t matter and I couldn’t be bothered.” This is how I feel every single time. And no amount of sorrys after doing this can undo that feeling. It’s visceral for me. I really detest it. So no, it’s not just 5 minutes lateness, it’s minus 5 minutes from my life that I never agreed to give you. You’re stealing life from me and that’s hurtful.
I learnt more about myself while being a caregiver to four boys with neurodivergence. I’ve seen and experienced first hand, how crushing and disorienting a sudden change in schedule or routine is for them. I have felt it all my life but for the first time, I didn’t feel crazy for always wanting to stick with the program. My brain is wired a certain way. Spontaneity hurts me more than it helps and planning is a lifeline I hold for sanity. It must be so difficult to love me. Because how you wan take surprise me? But for real, I get nervous when I have to wait indefinitely for someone who promised to do something and my anxiety won’t let me remind them lest I feel like a bother. I miss the care free child in me that would remind and demand and ask shamelessly. Now, I just hurt silently and nurse my bleeding heart. I don’t even say I feel disappointed.
I quite often feel overlooked in the areas that matter most to me. I like to use the water and wine analogy. When I’m thirsty, and say “I need water” Instead of “I’m thirsty”, it means it’s urgent and I’ll probably pass out in a little bit if I don’t get water. I don’t like to alarm people unnecessarily so I won’t add the other parts but I probably mean water, now!. What I tend to get in my life is, people trying hard to make me happy going off to search for a bottle of chilled sweet wine (even if it takes long) because they believe it’s a better way to quench thirst and when they come back, they’re met with a disappointed girl. It is usually mistaken for ingratitude. Quite the opposite actually. I’m usually saddened by the long efforts spent to get me the ‘wrong’ thing where active listening would have solved the problem, saved us time and made us both happy. Because no matter how much I appreciate your wine hunting effort, I still need water and wine won’t do. So when I say I need water, I mean it and I’m not implying I’m thirsty. If it’s open to other things, as Someone quite careful with her words, I try to make that distinction. What I have realised is that people are quick to act and slow to listen.
Why am I here? This feels like a journal entry and not a medium post. An explanation of myself to myself but it has been sitting in my notes since January. I realised that when one of my loved ones said to me ‘its difficult to read you,’ I didn’t feel hurt or annoyance, I started introspecting. That’s what led me here.
I believe I’m still difficult to read. I’m still too proud to ask for desperate help over and over again, especially from people I’d move the whole world to make happy — I just find it unnecessary. I need help is more than enough reason, end of story. I’m still picky with words and abrupt changes make me stressed. But I’m also learning that being difficult doesn’t mean impossible to love or know. Just like a long equation or a tough math problem, staying on it long enough, with the right formula will unravel it. I used to think I wasn’t worth the effort so I didn’t bother to explain but I realised that if it’s love, it’ll risk all to know. As I said in Growing, Up North, “…you cannot love who or what you do not understand.”
I’ll draw the curtain here. Until I write (journal) again. Remember that you’re worth the difficulty and complexity. Intricately made to be intricately known. Also, if you’re wrestling with pride like I am, remember that humble hearts heal faster, receive more and give even more. I pray you begin to understand the things that make you you and learn to appreciate the strengths and weaknesses alike.
Love, Ballie 💖
