The Narrative of Your Life

Recently, I had a truly sobering conversation with my oldest child. He has entered into that strange and magnificent stage of life called young adulthood; that stage where so many people try to figure out who they are and what they want out of life.

He expressed a general sense of overwhelm; something I think a lot of people are dealing with right now. I asked him to make a list of things, on paper, that induce the most anxiety and cause the most fear.

When we came back together almost 90 minutes later, he had written a letter of sorts.

Disclaimer: what I’m about to share is particularly difficult for me. Those who know me know how much I love my wife and children. I feel like I’m a slightly above-average husband and dad. I’m trying to teach my children to be good, upstanding, contributing members of society. For the most part, I teach them with patience and love, and I do spend quality time with them.

Also, I work hard. From a financial perspective, I’m not crushing capitalism. I make enough money to provide a modest living for my family. More context on that in a moment.

What came next with my son rocked my world. I began to read my son’s letter and quickly realized that living up to my expectations of him is his greatest fear.

Wait.

What?

It was really difficult for me to read those words.

I read the entire two page letter that addressed his feelings of inadequacy when he tried to measure his life against mine.

When I finished, I asked him to think really hard about the number of times in his life I have actually leveled an expectation. He came up with four:

• I expect him to respect respect all people, women in particular.

• I expect him to try his best in school. He doesn’t have to pull top marks / straight A’s. I expect him to work hard and be proud of his work.

• I expect him to be honest with himself and others.

• I expect him to be contributing members of society in whatever way he can.

I expect the same from all my kids. What my son had done, however, was create a long list of perceived expectations; expectations he developed for himself, without realizing it, by observing me and others.

In the last few years, my wife has done a lot of work on emotional intelligence and resilience. She’s taken many opportunities to talk to our kids about how to process their emotions in a healthy way and how to embrace all the feels. She’s very good at it.

Where I feel like we’ve fallen short, however, is in teaching our children to think as critically and objectively as they can about their own lives. My son developed a personal narrative about how he should be based on how I am now.

It turned into a great conversation. I was able to remind him of my real expectations. He was able to talk through the specifics of why adulthood scares him. I didn’t assuage all his fears, but we’re making progress.

He’s had multiple opportunities to talk to my wife as well. They’ve laughed and cried a lot. It’s been good for both of them.

To varying degrees, we can all see something of ourselves in my oldest son. For some of us, there are so many moments when we feel inadequate.

Why?

Why is it that we don’t feel like we’re enough?

The answer to that question lives largely in allowing too many people to dictate who we should (or shouldn’t) be. The trap is, frankly, huge so it’s easy to fall in. Most of that narrative comes from people we trust and love.

How do we reach the point where we feel like we’re enough?

Because so much of the narrative comes from the people I just mentioned, it’s important to listen with respect. Knowing what to internalize — to make part of our personal narrative — is the life-long challenge.

In addition the question of adequate enoughness is a complex one, and one I’m not qualified to answer. . .yet. I think it’s deeply personal and likely impossible for someone to answer on behalf of another.

For a moment, suppose you are working toward becoming the dominant force in your own life; that you are working to be the sole narrator of your story. In that case, the words of Christine Sharpe, in 45 Days of Courage, reminds us, “Today you are enough. Yesterday, you were enough. Tomorrow, you will be enough.”

It’s an important thing to keep in mind. The speed at which we grow and develop isn’t important, only that we do. Societally, there are some minimum requirements to be able to provide for oneself and family, but that minimum is exclusively driven by a society that has its priorities all mixed up. So, please take that with the proverbial grain of salt.

Becoming the sole narrator is a journey, and one that is filled with opportunities to back-slide into old habits and self-defeating language. It is also filled with wonderful opportunities to take your own breath away as you consider what you’re truly capable of.

For your journey today, remember to tell your own story because you are enough.