Pollyanna’s Personal Good, Bad, and Ugly

Lyda here. I actually wrote this post on Good Friday, but I’ve taken out the bad chocolate bunny jokes. It took me two weeks to finish this and post it. Wimp. Which is hilarious considering the content.

And now that you are dizzy with anticipation…

Last week, I had a week of the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. (cue the music)

I had an ugly week, full of crying and worrying and not sleeping and freaking out about various things.

I had the bad realization that I’ve gained weight. Again. Sigh.

And the good? Thursday night, after a dismal therapy session – how sick does it make me that my therapist is firing me? yeah, that sick – I sat and cried and journaled for an hour about it all. Why is that the good?

I decided this:

Fuck it.

No more worrying about what other people think. No more worrying, period.

So I’m in debt and broke and I haven’t paid all of my rent for this month yet, and I haven’t paid all my rent for the month before either. So I’m fat and I’m in pain all the time. So I can’t sleep, my apartment needs cleaning (oh yes it does), and I can’t afford to go back to school this year – or in the foreseeable future. So I’ve been alone so long that I’ve probably forgotten how to kiss. So there are other things that are weighing on me that I cannot get into… things about my kid and my friends…

So what?

Fuck it.

I’ve have spent my whole life worrying about other people, taking care of them, trying to please them.

My parents, my teachers, my classmates, my boyfriends, my friends, my siblings, my husbands…

yes, there were two marriages, and also several close calls that I am SO glad I escaped, but that’s a whole ‘nother Oprah

my son, my bosses, and – yes – complete strangers.

And you know what?

I have been spectacularly unsuccessful at pleasing them in the long term.

Wanna know why? I finally figured it out.

It’s not my job to please them. I CAN NOT MAKE THEM HAPPY.

Everyone gets to decide for themselves if they are going to be happy. Each day. Each moment. On their own.

If they are unhappy, it’s not my fault. If they are happy, it’s not my success.

Ya’ll, this is a huge revelation for this ole Pollyanna. I used to think that I could make people happy if only I tried hard enough and was good enough, and that it was my job to make them happy. And they would be happy if only I was good enough.


ALL THESE YEARS I WAS TRYING TO BE “GOOD.” Good daughter, sister, mom, wife, employee…. Good good good.

You know what?

Fuck being good.

I hereby declare that I am no longer a good girl.

I’m going to see how being a bitch feels.

Right now, Anna-Liza is screaming “About damn time!!”

I’m not saying I’m going to be mean or cruel or indifferent.

But I am going to stop trying to be what I think other people want me to be.

And when someone asks me to NOT be me, I’m going to say, loud and clear, “No.”

From here on out, I’m going to be me.

As loud as I can.

So watch out, ya’ll.

And yes, Anna-Liza, I do think that this could be FUN.


2 thoughts on “Pollyanna’s Personal Good, Bad, and Ugly

  1. Sheryl VanVleck

    FIRST: No one told me I was supposed to work on those blogs for two weeks before posting. Geez, that makes it work!
    SECOND: What’s wrong with Bad Chocolate Bunny Jokes? They are certainly not overdone like a three ministers walking into a bar or anythig.
    THIRD: I am certainly glad that you have decided to please yourself first because I think you are worth it and, you know, in the long run, you can’t please anyone else until you have come to peace with yourself.

    I have actually tried to please my mother for 61 years. She is now 87 and still not happy. Nothing will ever make her truly happy and what a sad way to live your life. Life is too short to live it for other people.

    My dear, Lyda, I wish I could do something to help your situation. Words are all I have right now. So, my insight.
    1. I’m fat too. But, I don’t much care anymore. I just want to get healthy and when I realized that was my goal, and not to get skinny to impress others, I seemed to be able to deal with it.
    2. I have been married four times (not two, four) and I am not sure that marriage is feasible when people live to their 90s. That’s a long bunch of life with one person. #1 was from marrying at 17. # 2 was 15 years older than me and really a sick SOB. #3 beat me once a month for three months. #4 and I have been together 20 years. We are friends.

    And, amazingly, I am about out of words. I have to echo Anna-Liza “About Damn Time”

  2. Anna-Liza

    Yep, about damn time. How long ago did I give you that book about getting in touch with your Inner Bitch? You thought I was joking, didn’t you?


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