Pedestal Pushing

So I was recently made aware that a friend of mine whom I am quite fond of has entertained some more than friend-ly thoughts about me.  It was intriguing to say the least.  I count this particular friend as a member among my favorite people list.  He’s just one of those people who I find extremely easy to get along with AND he seems to inspire me to think and challenge myself.  So it’s not the worst thing I could hear at all.  Shocking to me, but not gross by any means.  Actually, had the brother seriously pursued, he could have stood a really good chance.  But I also learned something else in addition to that.  According to my source, this particular friend does not (or at that time did not) feel “worthy” of me.  I also found that little tidbit intriguing.  My source told me that I give off this vibe that a brother has to be damn near perfect to get with me (I’m paraphrasing, but that was his point).  Unfortunately, that wasn’t shocking information.  I’ve heard this since my teenage years.  After graduation, so many guys decided to let me know that they had huge crushes on me and when I asked why didn’t you tell me before, I was told, “It just seemed like I wasn’t good enough”.  In college, I was barely approached and when I would inquire, my friends would say “Baby you look like you’re too much work.” 

Sadly, I’ve received this treatment not only from men, but from my fellow women as well.  More than a few females have told me that they would like to be my friend, but they are hesitant to try because I give off this “vibe” that I’m better than—or at the very least I think so has told me.  Now here’s where it gets tricky for me.  I’m really a nice person!  And I don’t say that in the “I’m really nice once you get to know me” manner.  No, I’m really nice.  I’m easy going.  I’m approachable.  And these same people who have told me about my “vibe” concur.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve received the “Oh my gosh you are nothing like what I thought you’d be!  You are so nice!”  Yet they maintain that I still have this thing about me that says to others “I’m better and you need to get to where I am”.  I even have family members who believe this.   My god sis concurred.  She also agreed that it’s not that I’m mean or uppity, but she’s of the belief that to most people (herself included), I appear to be damn near perfect and it makes them feel like they are not good enough to share my space.  Now here is my question:  Is it really I; or is it these people who choose to put me on this incredibly high pedestal?  I tend to think it’s the latter.  If I’m approachable, authentic, giving, and kind, how can I be blamed for “vibing” that I’m better than another? 

Honestly, I find this pedestal pushing to be quite tiresome, even a bit alienating.  So you mean to tell me that I have to suffer (well not suffer, but I feel like being dramatic) through lack of dates, friends, whatever because of your issues?  How is that fair to me?  Some months ago, a wonderful reader told me that I had a Healer aura.  She said that I was very strong and my purpose was to bring healing to people.  But she told me to expect difficulty because strength can frighten people.  She was right.  Now in no way do I like myself to Jesus the Christ, but I really understand how he must have felt in the Garden of Gethsemane. Sometimes I want to shout “Really?!  Nobody can watch with me one doggone hour?!!”  I’ve always said that strength is a quiet trait.  It doesn’t boast about itself.  It doesn’t shout.  It merely shows up when it’s needed.  There’s something about being a strong person that makes others believe you need nothing.  After all, you’re strong; you can take care of it all.  Nobody bothers to keep in mind that the strongest person you know may also be the most in need of help.  I know that I’m a strong person.  It’s just one of those ABCs of me.  But being strong doesn’t mean that I’m perfect.  And I won’t even pretend to be.  I have no problem telling you about my issues. Hell, if you read this blog you can see I’ll share my stuff with you.  About a year and a half ago, one of my aunts told me that she believed that the family failed me after my dad died.  (In some ways, I agree, but that’s a whole ‘nother post!) You see, after my dad died, my family didn’t support me. At all!  No one in my family so much as said, “How are you?”  According to my aunt, no one thought to be there for me.  They just thought I would be ok.  I can’t tell you how much that stung when I heard that.  Now that some healing has taken place, I am able to offer compassion and some understanding.  Maybe because they see me as being so strong they just thought, “Je’Niece doesn’t need us.  She’ll be ok” And while I understand it, it still sucks.  I was in a bad place then.  I could have used a lot of support—and especially from the people who claim they love me most.  But that’s not the point to today’s post. 

Anywhoo, I find this to be a prime example of the blessing and curse reality of life.  My strength has kept me going and helped me get through so much, yet it alienates me in some ways (or at least I’m choosing to believe it’s the strength).  I hate putting people on pedestals.  It’s so unfair.  It’s one of the reasons I’m not a fan of the whole celebrities as role models phenomenon. Once you’re on a pedestal, there’s only one place to go:  down. And the fall is usually hard and fast.  But while you’re on the pedestal, people tend to put super human powers upon you, which prevents them from seeing you as you truly are.  I have always had an innate desire to be seen—truly seen—and even more, loved for me.  I don’t want to have to be what someone else thinks or wants me to be.  I want people who see me as I am, love me for it, and aren’t afraid to let me know.  Now because I want that from mere mortals like myself, I know I’ll have to be patient and compassionate with my fellow brethren. But hey, a girl can still dream.