Chrisonomicon

Tuesday, December 11, 2001

Growth can be a good thing, but it can also be seriously painful. When I was a gangly teenager--not much different than I am now, in my twenties--I suffered from major pain in my legs late at night, making it very difficult to sleep. My father attributed these aches to stretching, knitting, and growing that was apparently taking place in my bones. It got so bad that I would sometimes lay awake at night for hours, crying, holding my legs to my chest and wishing I could saw them off at the hip.

In almost all other areas of my life, growth has been a positive thing with little or no suffering. College blew past with the usual whining, but was relatively painless. I grew into my current position at work with very little difficulty. I've adapted time and time again to the daily tasks and duties required of me. I finally feel as though I am coming into my own, so to speak, and managing my life much more responsibly while still accomplishing more.

The only area I can't seem to grow without discomfort or pain, however, is my love life. In fact, I seem to digress every time a situation presents itself. No matter how many self-motivating speeches or success stories or elderly words of wisdom I receive, I simply cannot deal with other human beings in a romantic setting--potential or otherwise--without turning into a sheepishly inept child. If I like someone, I am unable to let them know. Likewise, I am unable to be straightforward with my feelings when I do not like someone, as well.

I'm sure the inability stems from being afraid of rejection or hurting someone's feelings, and I imagine myself overcoming those fears and being completely candid. In time, I'd like to be more confident and aggressive, although not overbearing, simply because I admire people who are. The first step, as it's said, is always the hardest. I have to work on that honesty because there are people waiting for an answer.

It always seemed to me that brute honesty required an abandonment of one's sensitivity to others. I think that if I'm able to grow into someone who is true to others and myself without losing that sensitivity, I will have succeeded. Although I'm not an advocate of suffering as a source of growth, I know this will not be painless and, unlike the growing pains I experienced as a teenager, these cannot be alleviated with analgesics. I do believe, however, that the more difficult changes--and certainly the more painful changes--in life are also the ones we benefit the most from.