Given that I'm able to work independently most of the time, given that
by the nature of my job I give orders for people to follow, and given
that my word is the word in the classroom, it's easy for me to forget
that, no, I'm not the last word.
That's why the times when someone tells me "no" when I've stepped over a boundary are valuable, even if they're painful. This doesn't happen too often, because I'm usually very, very careful about the things I say out loud or the things I do. But, sometimes, things happen or I get carried away, and I end up doing something stupid in front of somebody who will, thankfully, call me on it. I get very mad at myself for doing something stupid (remember, I'm always my own biggest critic), but having that outside disapproval teaches a lesson, too.
This is healthy. I see it too often: too many people in whatever area in life don't get told "no" as much as they should. They surround themselves with people who, out of fear or out of the desire for advancement, don't tell the emperor, "Hey, I ain't too sure about them clothes." I've seen it in entertainment and sports, when celebrities become too rich and too powerful for their own good and surround themselves with yes-men and toadies who can't, don't or won't tell these people that all this time in the echo chamber is a bad thing. Sometimes I even see it in my own profession (most notably, a run-in with a particularly entitled-acting professor at a bookstore coffee shop a few years ago who was doing something I found not particularly professional, that could potentially have compromised student data. Man, how I had to resist the urge to tell him, "Look, I do the same thing you do for a living. And you're wrong, mister.")
Case in point: a few nights ago, hubby and I are watching television. We normally crack wise while watching television, and we spend a lot of time around people with senses of humor as twisted as ours. (Sometimes it gets really twisted, too.) At any rate, as we're watching, I made some wisecrack about something on the television, and...well, let's just say the intent, and the embarrassingly botched execution, were divergent. Hubby called me out on it. My brain immediately went into full "kick thy own self" mode, and I spent much time wishing I'd kept my fool mouth shut.
As painful as that moment was, it was good for me. And it's also reassuring to know I'm with somebody who will tell me those kinds of things when I need to hear them. That's what an ideal mate should do, anyway: be someone to keep you on the ground when everyone around you is either saying nothing or acting like everything you say or do is the greatest when it really isn't. The folks with the healthiest, most well-adjusted personalities, more often than not, have someone around them who's willing to tell them they're full of crap when they need to hear it.
I'm glad I have that. One of my worst fears is becoming one of those people who should have been told "no" more often, but weren't. Hubby helps me keep from becoming one of them. I'm thankful.
That's why the times when someone tells me "no" when I've stepped over a boundary are valuable, even if they're painful. This doesn't happen too often, because I'm usually very, very careful about the things I say out loud or the things I do. But, sometimes, things happen or I get carried away, and I end up doing something stupid in front of somebody who will, thankfully, call me on it. I get very mad at myself for doing something stupid (remember, I'm always my own biggest critic), but having that outside disapproval teaches a lesson, too.
This is healthy. I see it too often: too many people in whatever area in life don't get told "no" as much as they should. They surround themselves with people who, out of fear or out of the desire for advancement, don't tell the emperor, "Hey, I ain't too sure about them clothes." I've seen it in entertainment and sports, when celebrities become too rich and too powerful for their own good and surround themselves with yes-men and toadies who can't, don't or won't tell these people that all this time in the echo chamber is a bad thing. Sometimes I even see it in my own profession (most notably, a run-in with a particularly entitled-acting professor at a bookstore coffee shop a few years ago who was doing something I found not particularly professional, that could potentially have compromised student data. Man, how I had to resist the urge to tell him, "Look, I do the same thing you do for a living. And you're wrong, mister.")
Case in point: a few nights ago, hubby and I are watching television. We normally crack wise while watching television, and we spend a lot of time around people with senses of humor as twisted as ours. (Sometimes it gets really twisted, too.) At any rate, as we're watching, I made some wisecrack about something on the television, and...well, let's just say the intent, and the embarrassingly botched execution, were divergent. Hubby called me out on it. My brain immediately went into full "kick thy own self" mode, and I spent much time wishing I'd kept my fool mouth shut.
As painful as that moment was, it was good for me. And it's also reassuring to know I'm with somebody who will tell me those kinds of things when I need to hear them. That's what an ideal mate should do, anyway: be someone to keep you on the ground when everyone around you is either saying nothing or acting like everything you say or do is the greatest when it really isn't. The folks with the healthiest, most well-adjusted personalities, more often than not, have someone around them who's willing to tell them they're full of crap when they need to hear it.
I'm glad I have that. One of my worst fears is becoming one of those people who should have been told "no" more often, but weren't. Hubby helps me keep from becoming one of them. I'm thankful.
"we spend a lot of time around people with senses of humor as twisted as ours. (Sometimes it gets really twisted, too.)"
You rang?
Posted by: Warren | March 16, 2010 at 04:03 PM
Warren: There's a reason you and I get along so well. :)
Posted by: ea757grrl | March 16, 2010 at 04:16 PM