If Funky-Butt isn’t a technical term, it should be.
Funky-Butt
Definition:
A state of mind where
nothing ends well. Ever.
Even if Merriam-Webster doesn't wakes up to the potential of this
word, I will continue to use it as an endearing term to characterize my critical, snarky,
pessimistic, lower-lever thinking. Sometimes
I catch myself and sometimes I don’t.
Last week I caught
myself being a Funky-Butt with my husband.
Side note; I am married to the most amazing man on the
planet. He is kind, considerate, protective, loving, tender and so darn happy.
He is a really happy guy. Catching myself being a Funky-Butt is not
particularly difficult since he is usually really positive. The real trick is
not making him suffer my funky attitude.
Back to the story, we were wrapping up work last Tuesday. He
had just finished a meeting that went really well and he was excited for the
future. He rushed to my desk to tell me about his plans. Usually I am very
attentive, curious, engaging and supportive. However on this particular day,
what my husband found at my desk was a stress case on the edge of losing her
mind. Why? Not sure. Just because I can, I guess.
Funny part is; I look exactly the same. I am a dangerous
breed of Funky-Butt. I am completely unsuspecting to on-lookers.
So as my husband starts to share his joy, I feel the urge to
shut him down and send him away. However, with the beauty of awareness, I
instead say, “Honey, I can tell you are so excited about this. I want to hear
ALL about it. At this moment, I am really distracted, can we talk about this
later tonight?” To which he replies, “Oh,
good idea, that will give me time to put some more thought to all of
this.”
Aww, he is still a happy guy. I didn’t act on how I felt so the
disaster was avoided.
It’s beautiful when I catch it myself, unlike when it is
brought to my attention because I had been unaware of it for over a year…
This week a very dear friend of mine brought to my awareness
how I had been a Funky-Butt and she was supremely disappointed with me and let
me know just how painful the impact of my being a Funky-Butt had on her.
This is extremely heart breaking for me. It is never my
intention to hurt anyone, least of all the people I love. So when I read her
letter and saw how my actions were perceived I knew I was not behaving from my
higher consciousness. There was something subconscious that had been driving my
behavior and I wanted to know why. What
in me had me act this way and how had I been so unaware of it?
I began to write. I wrote pages and pages about what I had
done, how I felt, what story I told myself about her, the situation, etc. What
I realized during the process was that I believed a story that was not true.
I’ll start at the beginning: I drank too much at her wedding
and left 30minutes into the reception after making a complete fool of myself.
Did I mention I was the maid of honor? Not my finest moment, in fact, I was
mortified, I am still sick when I think of how I behaved. Without going into
too much self-deprecation (which has been a specialty of mine- a side of me I
am happy to say good-bye to during the #101daysofawakening) I considered my
actions unforgivable and continued to live my life not forgiving myself, even though I had a conversation with my friend after the
wedding and she said that she wanted to move forward from this experience.
So, I
heard her yet in my mind I thought it was impossible. I spent much of the
last year avoiding her because I felt so bad when I was around her. Not because of anything she did but because of how I thought
of myself around her. Without realizing it I had convinced myself that I was “too
busy to see her,” “I shouldn’t call and invite her because she wouldn’t enjoy
it,” “I can hang but only for a little while,” etc. None of which were true, it
was what I made up to avoid the pain I felt when I looked at her and remembered
how I behaved.
I knew there was something off between us but I was
convinced it was because I had done the unforgivable and we would never be the
same.
Well thank God I choose friends who have a better sense then me.
My Bizzle (this is another brilliant term of endearment I have given my beautiful
strong friend) had enough. She was fed up with the relationship I had created
in reaction to my mistake and let me know.
I am so grateful she did because I got the opportunity to
see how I had been avoiding a feeling and not being a very good friend. She
believed I could do better and held me accountable to the friend I am capable
of being and the kind of friend I want to be and believe I can be. I am so deeply appreciative of the courage she had to call me out on the
carpet.
We had a great conversation, we made agreements to move
forward and I feel truly transformed. We are better because of it, I am better
because of it, and it made me realize that conflict precedes growth. The muscle
has to tear if it’s going to grow.
If I live my life in avoidance of conflict, hurt or pain,
I’ll never grow. Well, thank you Bizzle for showing me that pain is
uncomfortable but it doesn’t last long when we face it head-on. Thank you for
showing me that we can use that discomfort to create something better. Thank
you for showing me that even being a Funky-Butt won't ruin things if we are
dedicated to what we are truly capable of being...and nothing less. I love you Bizzle.