I have lived a life of regrets and have had moments of satisfaction. But I’m always reaching and grasping for more. Whether that’s information, emotions or relationships. I’m rarely satisfied because I know, and feel, there’s more that’s not being said and I dig until I come up with the answer. Some people get uncomfortable and it’s hard for me to explain to them why I’m so compelled to do so. For me there’s a satisfaction in knowing the truth. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And as Jack Nicholson’s character in the movie A Few Good Men says “you can’t handle the truth!” I’m just one of those people that can, as rare as that is. I can always tell when there’s a lie being hidden as I can “read” people. And if the tables are turned and I’m the one that’s “read” it’s such a strange feeling. My Dad always said I missed my calling as a lawyer. Because I love to argue, and I was never satisfied with half truths. My Dad was good with “weird” and my response was “but Dad, I can see there’s more truth to be told!” Never satisfied, always researching, finding new ways to fix old problems, and never taking no for an answer. Yes all of those things describe me, some may call me stubborn but I prefer tenacious. Some may call me insatiable but I prefer curious. I believe I was put on this earth to be a truth seeker. To walk the path that’s rarely taken, to look for light through a dark tunnel. If I hadn’t been dissatisfied I wouldn’t have found the best specialist to help my son. If I had not pushed to have him assessed at a young age I wouldn’t have a SPD (Sensory Processing Disorder) diagnosis. If I had just given up when he was 18 months and my Dr said he’s just being a toddler and picky. I wouldn’t have known of his food aversions. If I would’ve just accepted he was testing his boundaries as he walked into walls and jumped off of bookshelves, and crashed to the ground with a silly smile on his face. I wouldn’t have known that he was seeking sensory input to regulate his central nervous system. And if I would’ve just accepted in the NICU that Dr’s and nurses poking and prodding him, and wanting to g-tube him, because he was jaundiced and sleepy was ok. Instead I fought with all my might, Mama Bear style to protect him, and let ME his Mom help him. I wouldn’t have this tough, tornado, loving boy. And if I had chosen to just believe my son is sensitive and all premature babies are programmed this way. I wouldn’t be able to try to see the world through his eyes. If I was satisfied that the school would look after my oldest son, and there was no need to ruffle feathers about bullying. He would be suffering depression, fear, and feeling unloved and unwanted. There’s a lot of satisfaction to knowing I’m a woman of my word. And my Dad taught me my word is my bond, had I not believed that then I wouldn’t have the amazing support network I’ve created. So if you need to research something dig, if you have questions ask, if you feel misunderstood clarify, and if you feel unheard state your intentions. Trust me there’s nothing worse than settling to being just satisfied by the status quo of life. There is a joy and profoundness, in finding what leaves you happy, satisfied, and comfortable in your own skin. I will set out on that uncharted frontier and search for the truth. And find the answers that people, places, and things can hide so carefully. Because I’m rarely satisfied, and that’s a good thing, and a fact I wear proudly.
Today’s Sunday confession is brought to you by the talented Ash at www.morethancheeseandbeer.com. The prompt was satisfied, check out what she has to say and all the other talent that link up. Thank you. ?
*Picture used with permission from* http://bravegirlsclub.com