Trust Your Worth

NaBloPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

I wonder how this post will land on women, versus men?

Another insight that emerged from my call with friends yesterday involved how we define and acknowledge our worth.  Reflecting on the evolution of our lives, my friends and I explored identity, societal metrics of success, and what really matters to us. 

One of us has been looking through old family photographs lately, and realizing that raising her family, more than her career, per se, is what affirms that ‘my life has mattered.’  I was just reflecting the other day on how much I seek the approval of certain people at work—how constantly their opinions weigh on my mind—leaders whom I respect, and whose respect I want in return.  Why do I care so much what people think of me?  The third of us has concluded that the most important meaning we can make in life revolves around deep connection with people.

All three of us are strong, independent, thoughtful, moral women who make positive contributions to society, no question.  We all stand firmly in unabashed acknowledgment of our personal worth and existential worthiness.  We know in our thinking brains that we are enough.  And yet, we all still crave and seek the approval of others, of society.  Whether it’s a title, income, or some other metric of status or accomplishment, we cannot help but attend to some implicit code of social standing.  Ironically, too, isn’t it a societal expectation that we also ‘shouldn’t need outside affirmation’ for our self-image or –esteem?  Fascinating. 

We observe men and wonder if they feel at all similarly?  Do men ever question or care what others think or where they stand in the group?  They must, right?  We all do.  We three agreed that while we all have a human need for acceptance and belonging, men and women are socialized very differently in how to attain it.  In short, men are expected to compete; women to collaborate.  In both cases, though, I think we all shine brightest and are rewarded when we bring our whole, integrated selves to participate.  The feedback we get from both competing and collaborating serves as our tribal belonging reality check, which is crucial information for relationships and survival.  And, we all must do our own inner work.  How can I bring my best self unless I know who that is?  And how can I know unless I practice some kind of self-awareness?

So as usual, it’s a matter of Both, And: I live by my own strong personal standards of conduct and contribution.  I judge for myself whether I do or am enough.  And, I benefit from the feedback of those whose judgments and relationships matter to me.  I check my work against meaningful external yardsticks and balance those metrics with my own ideals.  I believe we can train to hold this existential and relational tension with humble confidence and self-trust.  Connection (and collaboration) with amazing friends like mine are an essential part of a successful life training regimen.

Be Respectful

NaBloPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

I can just see every writing teacher cringing to see ‘Be’ as my verb in this action mantra.

I just cannot think of a better way to express this fundamental admonition.  It’s like the cheer we all know from high school—instead of ‘aggressive’, it’s, “R.  E-S.  P-E-C-T-F-U-L.  Be. Respectful.  B-E Respectful!”  Ha, the two words even have the same number of letters so the rhythm transposes perfectly.  Hmmm, maybe we can start a movement from the sidelines here.

In the grocery check-out line.  At the Target returns desk.  On the phone with customer service.  Driving.  With your in-laws, your coworkers, your spouse, your children, your direct reports, the building custodian. With your kids’ teachers.  With elected officials.  With people who disagree with you on issues that matter deeply to you.  With the person aggressively disrespecting you to your face.  With the authoritarian police officer using excessive force, the boss acting out of sheer prejudice, even malice.  With the militant supremacist throwing rocks and spitting at you.

Why be respectful? Because it’s the best way to show that you see the other person as also human, equal in worth to yourself, even if they don’t feel or think the same about you. They may say they do—don’t we all say it? It’s not socially acceptable to say out loud that we think someone is beneath us—at least not in public, or ‘polite society.’ Is there actually even such a thing anymore, polite society? Every year it seems easier for people to demean one another out loud, viciously, violently, in public, with no politeness whatsoever, and no consequences. I think every one of us needs to query ourselves truthfully about how much we really value and believe in equality, and get honest about where we don’t: Own it. Stand up and accountable for it.

But if we are sincerely convinced that we see all humans as equally valuable, that we harbor no occult supremacist ideals, then the least we can do is be respectful toward one another in all of our interactions. It may even serve as a prophylactic, keeping us from speaking or acting on our latent negative biases, if we simply commit to practicing respectfulness.

Disrespect is the first arrogant step down the slippery slope of dehumanization, and that descent leads straight to relationship hell.

Stay Connected

NaBoPoMo 2021:  Do Good, Kid

My friend Liz is amazing.

We met just as I was leaving my last practice 7 years ago, and I knew right away I had to grow this relationship.  She is an elder sister in the profession—a wise, compassionate, generous, empathic, smart, thoughtful, and loving physician and teacher.  After I had the privilege of presenting to her and her amazing colleagues on physician burnout (really, they schooled me that day), Liz showed me the inner world of primary care in a correctional facility.  We toured incredibly aged buildings.  Liz explained the frustrating limitations of working in a jail environment and the difficulties arranging optimal follow up when detainees are released.  But most of all, she showed me what true, deep respect for every person’s dignity, no matter how vulnerable, looks like.  Holy cow, I will never forget that day. 

Liz is also a deeply spiritual person.  She wrote the chapter on spiritual resources for Jewish healthcare professionals in Judaism and Health.  After our day together at the jail, we kept trying to meet again.  I wanted to learn more about Judaism and how she lived it—personally, professionally, and in community.  But my kids were little and the weather was bad on the nights we planned to meet, or something would come up, or- or- or…  It just never worked out.  But as physicians of deep faith, we both always knew we would connect again someday.

We kept in touch all these years mostly through occasional emails, and then YAY Facebook, especially the Physician Moms Group!  By far the most valuable thing about social media is sharing photos and reading life updates.  It really makes you feel like you’re in your friends’ lives up close, going through all the ups and downs, sharing joys and sorrows, witnessing from afar.  When I posted recently about a freak out I had over Daughter’s anaphylactic food allergy, Liz reached out.

We met in her neighborhood, which happens to be my old college stomping grounds.  We walked all over campus and caught up, shared stories, commiserated, and bonded, just like we always knew we would.  I got a copy of the book with a bonus printout of her favorite poem, “The Seven of Pentacles” by Marge Piercy.  I will return the love with my favorite book of poems so far, To Bless the Space Between Us by John O’Donohue. 

The space between us, indeed.  So near, just across town, yet so far, 7 years, and yet so near still, always connected in spirit through the years, light and strong, like dental floss or fishing line… We stayed connected, patiently, faithfully, knowing that divinity operates on its own schedule, and that when we could finally meet again, it would be powerful and lovely. 

And so it was.

It will not be another 7 years, this we know.  And it was well worth the wait.