Why am I like this?  I’m a good listener.  I even like listening.  I like being a safe place for people to verbally vomit all of the things so they don’t implode.  But it takes an embarrassing amount of self-control for me not to “do” something to help.  Ask my therapist.  Or my teenager.  Don’t ask my husband though;  because he's usually a witness to my people-pleasing-codependent behaviors, and I’d rather there be a few people remaining who don’t know the full level of my crazy-pants-edness.

 

Are there worse things than being a fixer?  Of course.

 

I’d list it somewhere below leaving toenail clippings anywhere people exist, but worse than squeezing a tube of toothpaste from the middle. However when you are doing the whole day in and day out with the same human while trying not to shake them thing, then fixers are really freaking annoying. Do I know this?  Yep.  Does it make me less fix-y? Unfortunately, I’m a work in progress.  But it does make me more aware of my own shortcomings…even more aware of my tendency to overcompensate. Which gives me the opportunity to bite my tongue and just listen. Or to let people deal with big emotions in their own way. 

 

I’ve spent a large part of my life trying to avoid conflict, much to my therapist’s chagrin.  Except for the part that my sessions over the years have more than likely paid for many much-deserved vacations and provided plenty of funny stories at parties (you’re welcome, Leslie).

 

So what, pray tell, does this have to do with anything, you ask?

 

Even though I may feel things more intensely than most and my intentions might be somewhere near the right place, my real issue is fear.  Fear that big (normally angry) feelings will become bigger than I can handle.  And maybe some fear that I won’t be enough to protect my people from the consequences of that anger.  I guess if you want to get down to the nitty-gritty, that fear is related to control.  That is not the kind of thing I want to admit, but, here we are anyway.  Because no one needs my fixing or control. And trying to do either is just my selfishness standing front and center.

 

I want everything to be sunshiny and comfortable and I’d throw myself into a woodchipper before I would willingly allow my husband, kids, friends, probably strangers, to experience hurt that I have deluded myself into thinking I can prevent. This sounds like an admirable quality.  And I guess it can be.  But I know that deep down, my motives aren’t always pure. Sometimes my attempts at controlling situations that feel out of my control are really a way for me to avoid being uncomfortable.  And what makes me think that my comfort level matters more than someone else needing to say the hard stuff?  Even if what they say is hurtful or angry or words they wish they could take back, it’s not my job to be the feelings police (but if that’s a real thing, I’d be AWESOME at it!). It is my job, however, to be kind, to listen to understand not just to reply.  It’s my job to be understanding and offer forgiveness and mercy because the Lord knows I need the same from others more often than not.  And I get to re-learn that fun lesson all the freaking time, as it’s clear I can be a slow learner. 

 

Thankfully I have a partner who loves me even when I’m unbearably annoying and gives me grace to try to do better.  And I get to offer him that same grace when the big football game he’s watching makes him completely bat-crap-crazy and cranky and scares the dogs when he yells at the refs (on TV, where they can’t hear him and if they could, still wouldn’t care. Sorry – not sorry).  And we both keep trying to be better, learn from our mistakes, and love each other a little more than the day before.  For me, that means that I have to stop and sit in the uncomfortable and love my people enough to let them mess up without trying to “save” them.  Mostly because (lets be real) I’m not a savior.  But thankfully I know one.  And His mercy that covers all of my stupid is available for other peoples’ stupid too.  Who am I to offer any less? 

 

So let’s try something different this month. If you’re a fixer, let’s stop before busting out our proverbial tool kit and maybe, just, and I mean this in the kindest way possible, we can all shut up.  Or if we tend to complain more than not, well, we might consider shutting up, too.  Listen, not only to what’s being said, but also what’s not being said, and more importantly listen to that still small voice that reminds us to shut it and just love louder (even though I’m sure that God would say it much nicer but He’s definitely given me a few well-deserved “shut ups” in my life). See what a difference a little attitude and mouth-itude (just me?) can make.  We can speak some life and some goodness even when the bad stuff is shouting louder, and sit back and see what happens.  Let’s wait…..

 

“Duct tape can’t fix stupid…but it can definitely muffle the sound.”