Everybody F*cks Up Sometimes (Ourselves Included)

Like a bunch of folks, I got caught up in Southwest Airlines’ epic fail during this years’ holiday travel. My experience wasn’t as horrible as most, though – by some sort of truly miraculous twist of fate, I made it home on Christmas morning… at 4am.

It sucked. And I was real cranky about it. And Southwest absolutely fucked up, real bad.

But here’s the thing: just because Southwest completely screwed the pooch this year doesn’t mean I’m giving up on them entirely. Why not? Because I have probably two decades worth of generally positive experiences with this airline. So it’s easier for me to look at this mess of bullshit and decide to give them the benefit of the doubt in future. 

It also helps that the employees at Southwest have consistently made my travel experiences just a little bit brighter, more fun, and decidedly kinder than any other airline I’ve ever flown. (I’m drafting this from 10,000 feet, and one of the flight attendants just sang/gave a pep talk to a nervous traveler as we experienced some gnarly turbulence on our way up). So, over the long haul, this airline has treated me well. I’ll give them another chance.

Throwing in the Towel Isn’t Always an Option

Similarly, when people who have been in my life a long time do something inconsiderate or unkind or selfish that hurts my feelings – I have the breadth of previous experiences to look at and reach for grace.

Now, it can be a lot harder to find that grace and generosity when I don’t know someone as well. If we haven’t been dating very long or a friendship is new, it’s much easier to just cut ties and start over with someone else. To say, “fuck it, I’m out.”

Except that’s only sort of true. I’m somebody who loves really fiercely and generously. And when I decide to let somebody in, I’m more likely to put up with bullshit to a fault – because I have a deep well of empathy and compassion and a pretty good sense of the ways that trauma and attachment wounds and poor models for primary caregivers leave so many of us struggling with how to show up well. So I cut people a lot of slack, and sometimes they don’t actually deserve it. 

But everybody fucks up sometimes. Myself included. 

I get irritable and snippy (with my parents especially) when I’m depleted.

I get hypersensitive when I haven’t slept well and am prone to bouts of weeping that can be challenging for others to be around.

I’m also prone to overcommitting myself and having to cancel plans – sometimes at the last minute. This past year especially, I’ve been really fucking flaky in a lot of ways; I’ve struggled a lot with how to manage my spoons.

So, I fuck up, too. And I can’t very well quit myself when I’m mad about the ways I’m not showing up how I’d like to. But my inner critic definitely wants to be real mean about it.

Giving People a Second Chance Isn’t Weakness

Since I can’t just quit myself when I fuck up, the work is in extending grace and generosity to myself. In speaking back to the inner critic when I fail somebody or I feel like I’ve failed myself by giving someone too much of myself.

Until recently, my ex partner and I were trying to stay in communication after the break up. That’s always a messy and challenging proposition, but we both hold a deep care for each other and didn’t want to let go of what was a meaningful connection for us both. 

As you might expect, though, we couldn’t get there. We tried. We gave it a solid effort. But he struggles with avoidant attachment wounding, and I’m healing anxious/avoidant. And although I’ve cultivated some really solid earned secure attachment for myself, we were out of alignment around how to show up for each other both in and outside of the relationship. 

And looking at it on paper, I definitely extended a lot more grace post-break up than would seem remotely sensible by most standards. I gave him a lot of chances to show up differently, and he didn’t. And it was really fucking hard. But I don’t regret it.

I want to be someone who loves generously. I want to strive to meet people where they’re at, and I fundamentally believe that people can change. Just because it didn’t happen this time and with this person doesn’t mean I want to give up on others.

You Don’t Have to Listen to the Inner Critic

However, my inner critic is being a real dick about how long I stuck around. That voice wants to come in with the “you should have known” narrative, the “look at all the flags you ignored” list, the “how could you be so stupid” assault. All of which is really painful to layer onto the straightforward grief and sense of loss that comes with any severing of connection. 

It’s also just my brain’s way of trying to protect me from future harm. That part of me believes that if I can shame and bully myself into “knowing better” next time, then that will keep me safe. And it will! Because if I let it get loud, it will probably keep me from trusting anyone or opening myself up to dating again. I’ll just go back to the old stories that kept me single and isolated for so long:

• What’s the point? It never works out.
• Dating is horrible and people suck.
• I’ll never find anyone who has actually dealt with their shit.
• People find me intimidating/I’m too much.
• The people I like never like me back.
• Or, (and oldie but goodie): I’m only attracted to damage and therefore there is something fundamentally wrong with me.

I’m sorry, but 🤮🤮🤮

Fuck all that noise. 

Look for the Good Instead

I will find evidence of whatever I go looking for. If I want to find evidence of all the signs that my ex wasn’t going to be able to show up for me in an emotionally responsible and kind way – I can absolutely find them! But to what end? To beat myself over the head with them and stay mad at him and thereby mad at myself? Cool… That sounds super fun.

Alternatively, I can look for evidence of my own growth, of the ways that I actively chose to love generously, to be kind, to offer compassion and grace. I can look for evidence of the ways that this relationship was better than the last one, how it grew me as a person, and what I learned as a result of letting this person into my life for however long.

Love is always a gamble. Always. You can’t open your heart to anyone without risking heartbreak. Resilience is getting back up after your heart has been shattered and trying again. And that act of courage makes us stronger and more able to show up in future.

The thing about heartbreak is that if we give it the space it needs, if we take the time to reflect and look for the good in the experience instead of staying stuck in the ugliness at the end or backtracking to the beginning and looking for all the signs that it wasn’t going to work – then it can absolutely make us stronger.

Because heartbreak teaches us about ourselves. What we need to feel safe and seen in a relationship. What we need to change/heal/talk about in order to show up better/differently the next time. It shows us the things we still don’t like about ourselves and the ways our own bullshit can take over.

While we might not be able to just set those things down, seeing them helps us get a step closer to showing up better.

So, rather than focusing on how other people have fucked up or failed us, and rather than focusing on how we fucked up or failed ourselves, we can ask ourselves some questions that shift focus to growth and healing and grace:

• What do I need to do/say/feel in order to let go of my hurt and anger?
• What was good about all of this?
• How did I show up differently this time?
• How do I want to show up differently in future?
• What boundaries can I see now that I couldn’t see or didn’t know how to set before?
• Who do I want to be in my next relationship/the next time something like this happens?
• What did I do well?
• What am I proud of myself for in this relationship/experience?