I have an adorable pug. He is the cutest sweetest doggy in the world. His name is Kramer. He's especially attached to my mom and my mom is also very attached to him. He's her baby (both my parents quite obviously miss having little kids - us old grumps just aren't as much fun ;) ) and he acts like it. He has a tendency to get ticks. When I came home for winter break, I scratched him in my favorite spot, the scruff under his chin. I think I prefer this spot more than anyone else in my family, because I had literally just stepped in the door and given him one scratch there when I felt something small and hard and said "He has a tick?" And my family was like, "What tick?" And then I couldn't find it again right away, but it turned up again either later that day or the next and we were able to remove it.
Today, not even an hour ago, I went looking for Kramer and found him sleeping in my parents' room, like he often does at this time of night. When I came in, he wagged his tail and rolled over on his back for belly rubs. As I was scratching his belly, I felt something small and hard and thought, "Uh-oh, have I found another tick?" But I couldn't see it very well and thought it might just be a scab, so I called my mom in and she thought it was a tick too. So she took Kramer to my dad in the basement since he's the one who removes the ticks. They were down there a long time (fifteen min at least) and eventually I went down to find out why, and I found my mom pacing in the basement while my dad worked on getting the tick off Kramer with his friend in his studio. Mom said the spot where he was trying to remove the tick was all red and raw now and the dog was very upset and she couldn't stand to watch him.
So I went inside and I looked at the tick, and it really looked to me just like a scab. Then I had the horrible thought that it might actually be one of his nipples - he has these useless little black nipples in somewhat symmetrical spots on his belly, but I didn't think this was the right spot. Plus, it was flat, and I think if my dad had accidentally removed part of the nipple it would have been bleeding. Now I think it's just a sun spot or age spot. Anyway, I got worried that what we'd seen wasn't actually a tick and we'd put our poor doggy through all this for nothing. He was so upset, but by the time I got there he'd kind of given up and was just breathing hard and lying there. So I started looking around on his tummy and - voila - it turned out there
was a tick, and either it had moved or my dad just got distracted by the look-alike black spot. It was a nice big thing with long legs. Ewww. Once I found the actual tick, it came off pretty quick. Poor doggy lost some fur and has a little raw spot where Dad was digging at the black spot, but after the tick was gone I picked him up and brought him to my mom, who gave him treats and wiped him down, and he bounced back pretty much instantly. He's got his jaunty walk back and everything is fine! (My mom is the most shaken up by it all. :P I understand, but Kramer is totally fine.)
Moral of the story is, I had a moment of not wanting to admit that I might have been mistaken about the tick when I started thinking it might have just been a dark spot of skin. I hated the idea that I'd caused my dog to go through this for nothing. But luckily, I didn't act like an idiot, and said something, and then it even turned out that I
wasn't mistaken and there was in fact a tick. I'm just sort of checking my pride at the moment, though. A major fear of mine is doing something in spite of feeling convicted that it's wrong, just because I'm bent on being right. I do like to be right - who doesn't? And I enjoy a (friendly, casual) debate. (Some people seem to find debating antagonistic no matter what, but it's not like that for me. I love to share opinions and compare observations. Regardless, any debate carries the risk of going sour. I do try not to let that happen.) But I also make an effort to remember my own weaknesses, my own lack of knowledge.
It's been a journey for me over the years getting to know who I am. I'm still very confused about certain things, in particular how I interact socially. I have problems getting close to people. Generally I get close to someone if they seem like they want to get close to me, so personally I'm rather indiscriminate, but also too reserved. I've been working on being more open. One of the major factors contributing to that closed-ness was my fear of failure/rejection. I really came to realize this a couple years ago. I'm not a perfectionist, but I am really hard on myself, to the point that I usually expect to fail. At the same time, I can't forgive myself for failing, so it's been many years in a circle of pain: think I'm failing, punish myself for failing, rinse and repeat. Over the past couple years, I started trying to forgive myself for my failures. I started trying to shrug it off and look forward to the next opportunity to prove myself. It was hard, and it took a conscious effort. It's a conscious effort that other people can't see and so they can't validate me for it. I had to learn to validate myself. But that has been so, so worth it. I came to a new understanding of what it means when people say "be confident." "Believe in yourself." These were phrases I heard so often, but could never really grasp. It is so uplifting to forgive my failures. I don't think this means I've lowered my standards. Instead, I think I've raised the bar: I expect myself to go into new endeavors with more optimism and drive.
It's funny how having more pride in myself has helped my check my pride about messing up or being wrong. But it makes perfect sense. In the past, I felt driven to excel in areas where it would be obvious to others, so that they wouldn't know how insecure I really am. But as I forgive myself for the mistakes I make, I find that I can love who I am much more. And I can consider myself to be on a journey of learning, rather than a lifelong competition.
I know it's rather weird to feel like expounding on this life lesson because of something that happened to my dog, but hey - just because it wouldn't make a good movie doesn't mean it's not relevant. :) I think this is a lesson that is hard for many people to learn, just because telling people, "If you smile and seem confident in yourself, other people will be confident in you too," seems so vague and hard to believe. I always used to think, "But if I haven't done anything to prove myself, how can I feel confident?" Again, it doesn't make sense, but it really is true - believe in yourself
first and success with follow. I've been buoyed by a few successes these past few years, in mostly educational, but also social, arenas. And also one major failure: I was involved in something a couple years ago which brought back all the claustrophobia and painful insecurity that tormented me in my teen years, and I was utterly shocked that after all the progress I'd thought I'd made, I reverted so quickly to that shell-shocked adolescent whose walls against friendship were miles high. That hurt me for a while afterward, and it also made me feel like I really needed to try this "be confident" thing. Because I just could
not go back to the hell that was middle and high school. And it was worth it. I'm still a work in progress in a very major way. But even if no one else can see it, I see the changes in myself. I can accept suffering and sadness as the flip side of joy and peace. I want to find strength in those experiences instead of drowning in them.
Anyway, that's all I have to say. My next adventure is traveling to Japan for two years to teach English to junior high and elementary school students. It's been my dream all through college and I'm still so stoked that it's coming true. I feel more prepared for it because of what I learned about myself during my college years. (Yeah, by the way, I'm a graduate now with a B.A. in English Literature and Japanese Language & Linguistics!) College only lasts a few years. School ends. But learning who you are, and how to become the person you want to be, is a lifelong journey. I don't think everyone considers it their most important undertaking, but to me, there is nothing more important than the human soul, however you interpret that.
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