Battles Within

My mother met my dad at the tender age of seventeen. She fell head over heels in love with him from the first moment she laid her eyes on his handsome face. Despite the challenges, of which there were many, she was determined to win him. With sheer perseverance she bombarded heaven with prayer petitions to get what she wanted and succeed, she did. It has been over fifty years now since that momentous meeting but the decades spent together has not faded the magic between them. To this very day, they are both still deeply in love with eachother. Where one is, the other is also. They are inseparable.

I of course consider myself very fortunate to have them for my parents. Growing up I was secure in the fact that no matter how often they fought and argued they would somehow find a way to kiss and make-up. Their mutual commitment to uphold their vows have kept them steadfast and faithful to one another throughout the roller coaster ride of their marriage. It is a joint achievement I find most admirable.

Naturally, I too want to attain the same kind of success they've had. I also want mine to be a fairytale with a happy ending. I, more than anything else, want to provide my children with a solid home from which they can build their roots upon. But times have changed so much. What used to be black and white now is fast becoming a confusing array of grey. No longer is there a clear demarcation line between good or evil, right or wrong. The answers are lost in individual translations, all arguably correct depending on what angle you're looking at.

The relationship I have with my husband suffers greatly due to our conflicting personal points of view. As is commonly the case, man often thinks he is right and so does woman. Both stubborn in our ways, we are unwilling to budge from the spot on which we stand. He has his ego to protect and I have my feelings. Which of the two is more important?

For sure, head-on collisions will benefit neither of us. Ultimately, the children are the ones who are caught in between the cross fire. They are the ones who will bear the brunt of the war. They are the innocents who will be most injured and scarred. It is because of these reasons that I regularly find myself giving in. My surrender, though painful to me, will spare them from further suffering. And so, waving the white flag, I must bow my head and lower my eyes in humility. For peace's sake, someone's got to.

I have energy enough and ample ammunition to fight to the death. I have a formidable strength of spirit within me waiting to be unleashed; waiting to prove itself a capable victor. But if my sole aim is to prevail in as many battles as possible, will it necessarily mean I am guaranteed to win the war? What use is the reward of that if I lose the man I love and in the process tear the family apart?

Perhaps the real champion is the one who gives in.

Less than Best

Numerous times I have been told that I am like the character Bree Van de Kamp in the television series Desperate Housewives. Unfortunately, I cannot agree nor disagree with the comparisons made because I have only managed to watch a single episode of this show. As I understand it, Bree is a perfectionist bordering towards having an obsessive-compulsive disorder. She is always at her prim and proper best, impeccably dressed and poised. Admittedly, I see our similarities as I, like her, pride myself in the careful attention to detail in practically everything. I am against mediocrity. I strongly believe that a person's work reflects their character. And so, it is with higher standards that I conduct most of my affairs in life.

The problem with this attitude though is that people tend to demand a lot more from me. They've seen me consistently deliver great results and recognize what I am capable of. And so they assume I will live-up to their high expectations however unrealistic they may be. But human as we all are, I am too am flawed and falter. I occasionally slow down my pace in the race of which I am made exhausted. I am not always driven to excellence. I sometimes get weary of sustaining the standards I have set for myself. For my own better good, I have learned to tone down my competitiveness and allow others to outrun me and take hold of the victor's cup. Let them have their chance at it and receive the glory that is rightfully due to them. I will happily applaud their accomplishments. In humility I have accepted the fact that I cannot always be superior from the rest. Fighting for the number one spot is a price often too high to pay. I no longer find the motivation to keep on vying for the best.

In deciding to let go of the compulsion to win, I now can freely breathe the fresh air of contentment. No longer overly concerned about what others think, nor pressured by their push to climb the top, I am at last satisfied to stay put. When I get up again to contend will depend on me, not them. I alone should take control of my life. I am no one's puppet.

Changing my mindset has far greater rewards than any accolade, trophy or medal.