“What’s wrong? Are you disappointed?” My mother asked. She noticed that I seemed less than excited about the gifts I had received from her and my father.

At twelve I was starting to question life, albeit, somewhat unconsciously. That Christmas season, I was curious as to what it was that made up the “Christmas Magic” I had always experienced. Knowing that the gifts received provided only temporary thrills, I questioned whether something beyond them was responsible for the warmth, excitement and joy I felt at the holidays. I figured that fond memories combined with expectations were major contributors. I also strongly suspected that my engagement in, as well as the excitement that I brought to the season, were top contenders in the bigger picture… so I experimented.

In the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas, I often stopped and asked myself, ‘If I take the emotions out of this experience, is there still something special and exciting about it?’ The answer was usually ‘hmm…not so much.’ I would then re-enter the moment, allowing myself to feel the joys of the season. I did this often, as if taking my inner pulse and the answer was consistent; without engaging with excitement; my experience of the holidays was lackluster. What I deduced from this experiment was this: how we experience events in our lives has so much to do with what we bring to them in terms of emotions, memories and expectations. This means we have an active role in determining our life experiences. It dawned on me that if I wanted a happy, joyous, life, it was my responsibility, right and privilege to choose my demeanor. While I don’t think I realized it at the time, this insight was a much greater gift than anything wrapped under the tree.

It did, however, come at a cost. I was not nearly as immersed in the “Christmas Magic” that year and my mother sensed it. That was a problem because, my experiment wasn’t clear enough in my own mind to be able to articulate it to her, and she could see that I was not as engaged and excited as I usually was. Furthermore, when she asked, “Are you disappointed?” what crossed my mind before I answered her question was all the energy and hard work she always put into Christmas preparations to make it a blessed celebration for everyone. I thought of how devastated she would feel if I confirmed some disappointment, regardless of the reason why.

By that age I also had witnessed most adults in my life skirt confrontation by being “nice” and acquiescing to telling others what they wanted to hear, so I told her “no” that I wasn’t disappointed. I told myself I wasn’t lying, but being kind. My mother wasn’t satisfied so she pressed further and I sensed that she really, really wanted to know the truth. The war within me was truth versus “being nice.” I was torn. Like the groove in an often- used vinyl record, the “being nice” rule was so well entrenched that it, naturally, won out.

As my mother retreated, not totally satisfied that she had the truth, I remember feeling like I had done the right thing in protecting her feelings, but that, in the process, I had traded a part of myself. It was in that moment that a seed-thought flashed across my mind, ‘When is it okay, or is it ever okay to say what I really think and feel?’

This thought sparked just enough light for me to acknowledge to myself that there was an internal struggle between expected responses and my personal truth. It was an oft-recurring thought over the years that followed. I didn’t fully understand then the value of excavating such struggles and examining them in full light. While it would be years before I would be awake enough to consciously pursue my journey to authenticity, this is where it all began.

~Zanne

InSearchOfAuthenticity.com

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