What I know about Grace and Growing up

I don't care how old I am today, at any given time I can go back to being 5 years old again. Mentally that is.

When I think about being an adult, one word rings through my head: responsibility. No wonder that's all our parents and elders talk about. The concept has had time to sink into them while it seems foreign when I was younger. As I have grown, the people around me have taught me how to behave with grace and elegance. I am not sure how much of that actually pans out in my actions but I try to think about it every time I want to act badly.

And when I want to act badly, I feel 5 years old again. I want to get all huffy, stomp my feet, yell, throw my arms around, and go sit in a corner with my arms crossed. I am not sure if I ever did that when I was 5 but I've seen enough other children do it at that age to feel fairly confident I had a moment or two that looked like that.

Well I think those moments where you mentally go back to being 5 years old never go away. No matter how old I am, the feeling of wanting to act like that angry 5 year old when I am frustrated doesn't disappear with time.

I am not sure why we act like that when we are actually 5 but I know that I want to act like that at 27 because I feel powerless at times. Powerless to change certain obstacles or frustrations. Powerless to make people behave or feel a certain way. Powerless to overcome that which stands in my way between a happy good day and a powerless "I really want to act like a pissed off 5 year old" day. And I recognize how immature it sounds to want to act like that. I don't think it's a conscious want to be that way but more the fact that at one time, it was tolerable to behave that way without too many hellish consequences. At 5 years old, you go to bed without being able to finish your dinner and you don't get to watch tv. At 27, you could get fired, lose your apartment, lose your car, lose your friends, lose your dignity, lose your credibility.

I asked someone at work today "How do responsible adults develop healthy coping mechanisms for stress? Are they just better at it than me or are they just better at dealing with things because they have been working at it longer than me?." To which my co-worker said "Yeah, it must be that they've been doing it longer because I've been dealing with shit for 15 years and I'm still learning how to handle that better."

When I think about who handles stress the best, I think about my mom and how I learned to try and embody that from her.

My mom has always been in a high position of power at academic institutions. She has always worked very hard, become the best at what she does, and gained the respect of her fellow peers every step of the way. But when there are challenges, the severity of them is always on a very large, significant scale. I guess that's what you agree to take on when you are in a position of power; you agree to take the credit when it's good and the responsibility if it's bad.

But whenever I saw an issue that my mom tackled, she did it with Grace. I never once got the sense that she wanted to refer back to her 5 year old self. She was the person who handled that situation as it came, in the moment. I saw strength, perseverance, and poise in her determination. I still do to this day.

So when I mentally jump to the 5 year old having a "spazz out- party of 1" session, I think about my mom. I think about the face she would give me if she knew what I was thinking. I can see her face so stern and almost sad with her arms crossed. I can hear her gentle voice saying "you don't really think that's going to help you accomplish anything do you?" I can see her face relax as I mentally go back somewhere more healthy and less well, immature. I can see her face then smiling as I give up the 5 year old self and start becoming my 27 year old self again. The thoughts of rage and anxiety are replaced with perspective and determination.

On any given day, I can so clearly envision my mother smiling at me with pride. I want her to be proud of me. I want me to be proud of me. And 5 year old me doesn't make anybody proud. But 27 year old me has and that is who I have to remember to be when things go south. I got this far, I survived worse along the way, and bad is relative. When I think about all the reasons my mom would smile at me with pride, none of them are about me wanting to go back to being 5 years old.

So maybe coping is not just about acting appropriately. Perhaps it's just about letting yourself mentally go backwards before moving forward with grace in reality.