Tag: Change

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I Do Not Believe in Right or Wrong

Posted on by Lizzie Gomez

June 16, 2018

I write most when something is troubling me, or when I’m stuck on something. I feel the need to know why. Always, I want to know why. Knowing only helps if there is a second step. And it is only satisfactory, if the next step is. Some problems have no answers. Or they do, but they aren’t pleasant answers. Some second steps hurt. Many first steps are not socially acceptable. My words are vague and meaningless unless they are not. Unless you have done something either you regret, or you feel like you should regret. I can’t do this. I used to say- believe even- that everything I did in life, I should be able to share with my parents. I believed that if I wasn’t willing to do that, it must have been the wrong choice. My friends in college scoffed at that but let me live in my delusion. I know now there is no set manual that decides what is right or wrong. The definitions of those words are not fixed. Every language, culture, and individual have a different meaning for those words. Therefore, anything I do can be right or wrong in my mind. My society and culture I live in is only a guide and pressure. Some cultures eat humans, others painfully realign, usually children’s teeth, with wires and rubber bands. Braces or cannibalism, right or wrong, there is no consensus.

So, if anything can be wrong and anything can be right, how do I decide? Usually, it depends on my mood. Some days I feel like everything is my fault. Other days, it’s the world out to get me and I can do no wrong. I hate that. So, how have I never gone to detention or court? I, generally, follow the leader, like the little monkey I am. My last post, Need or Want?, gives several examples of times when I blindly followed other’s guidance in my life. It’s difficult not to. And this is where I start quoting myself. Or, more like, continue referencing myself. In my The Time Jumps, Time Pools, and Normalcy post, I explained that normal is what the society we live in creates to be labeled as normal. Anything can be normal, if enough people do it. Along the same train of thought, anything can be good or bad, depending on those around us.

We all do “bad” things. At least once. Just as we have all done at least one “good” thing in our lives. Maybe I’ll expand on that in a future post. Why and how children learn to favor “good” or “bad” behavior. Condensed version of that is that some kids, like me, learn that people smile at you and let you eat a cookie before dinner if you ask nicely; while other kids, would rather just take the cookie when no one is watching. Learned behavior. The labels of good and bad are also learned.

Lesson here, the label varies. One’s reasons and views on events fluctuate. Humans do things that go against their intentions. I used to have good intentions. Then I allowed my wants to overpower my morals. Now, I return to my blind morals. I don’t know if blindly following protocol is better than allowing myself to do what I want when that want is against societal approval. Society is oftentimes wrong. Have you heard any nutrition news lately? A large percent is convoluted! I’d know, as a nutrition dietetics intern. Anyway, society does not only have the potential to be wrong, it often is. The label does not matter. What matters to me matters to me.

If my choice ruins friendships, that’s fine. Granted, that I am okay with ruining said friendships. All choices have consequences and reasons or, at the very least, rationalizations. It really doesn’t matter what I do with my life. So, why am I following society? Guilt? I’ve felt guilt, without a hair of doubt, once in my life. This doesn’t feel remotely like that. This feels numb and rational. I don’t know what I am doing. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I can convince myself it was the right thing to do, no matter what I do.

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Need or Want?

Posted on by Lizzie Gomez

Why do we love? Do we need people or want people? I was in a therapy group called “Understanding Self and Others”. There was a participant there who seemed very cut off from people. It seemed like he hadn’t dealt with others in years. He was in recovery for drugs or alcohol. I don’t remember which and he often referred to women as a separate species. He wasn’t my favorite. But, he kept going to group. As did I. And one day he said something that still intrigues me to this day. He was looking to better his life. Going textbook. I used to be like this.

I used to do things because I was told. I didn’t have a drink of alcohol till I was 21 because I was taught it messed with growth and development along with all the other nasty side effects. I did not date in high school because my parents frowned upon it. I didn’t start dieting until I turned 18 because of the consequences to growth and whatnot. I didn’t graduate early from high school because people told me to enjoy my youth and not to speed it up. I went for advisable. Safe. Boring. I don’t drive or leave the house unless I have to because my mother installed an unhealthy fear of car wrecks in me. And you know what I am most regretful for? That I allowed it. I allowed others to decide my life for me. I trusted slogans and chimes from transient people more than myself. Then I didn’t.

Then I went to college. I went despite my father’s wishes. I went on a camping trip that first year and stayed quiet as a friend who’d been sleeping the whole car ride decided to drive on the last leg back to campus. I stood there as the current driver hesitated to hand her the car keys and looked at me for confirmation, a reaction, something! And I stood there! Didn’t say a word, until I was in that car swerving on and off the highway when I was screaming “STOP!” as I clutched on to both overhead handles in the backseat.

After that day, I expected my life to change. I expected to value my existence or suddenly see all the beauty in the world that I had missed. I didn’t. I was disappointed. I was confused. It took me several more years—It took me until now to appreciate that moment. I understood it, intellectually, since it happened. I kicked myself for not speaking up. It’s one of my character flaws. Yet, I continue to rely on others and keep my mouth shut. It grates me to depend on others. It’s what I’ve done my whole life. But people are wrong. Or sometimes they are right. The one thing they never are, is me.

So, when they tell me not to drink before I’m 21, or to value my family, they are speaking in generalities. They don’t know what’s best for me, even if they wanted that for me. I don’t either. I don’t know if I want what’s best for me. I read a book for my high school English class either sophomore or junior year. The Picture of Dorian Gray. All I got out of that was a new vocab word: hedonist. One who lives for their sole pleasure. And with that new word, I got a new life philosophy. A fantasy. I still care about others and that’s what is killing me miserably.

The guy in the “Understanding Self and Others” therapy group asked if people, friends specifically, were necessary for life. I don’t remember if he said a good life. I think he just meant in general. My response to that, and many others chimed off with agreement, is that friends-people- aren’t necessary. Life goes on with or without them, but with is much more enjoyable. So, he became quiet, having the answer he sought, and the rest of the group watched with worry and sadness as we saw a calm, hushed fuzz come over his eyes. There was the smallest glimmer of disappointment that faded into his meaningless stare. Just because something isn’t necessary, doesn’t mean it isn’t worth pursuing.

Since that semester, fall of 2016, (reinforced by the fact that it was the semester I began dating my first boyfriend) I have had a complex between the binaries of want and need. My argument firmly on want being more important. Allow me to explain. Humans need water to live, but we don’t love it. We want soda and juice and tea and coffee and a myriad of things that pollute that which we need-water. If we wanted water instead of forcing it upon us as a necessity, I argue that people, as a species, would do exponentially more than we do now to preserve and protect this jewel of our planet. More than we do now that we need it.

Likewise, if I need someone, I use them. Maybe I keep them around for emotional support, maybe they have a car and I don’t, or they feed me. Whatever the reason, if I stay with them because I need to, because I must. It’s not really my choice. However, if I want to share my feelings and thoughts with them, I want to spend time in the passenger seat with them, and I like the food they make, it is my choice. I don’t like being forced into things. Even if they are the things I would have chosen myself. But there is no clear distinction between want and need. I never know if I am talking to a friend about something because I want to have a conversation with them, because I like them, or because they were the best person for the job.

And what if they are the best person for the job? I wouldn’t go to my grandmother for sex advice! Is it wrong that I go to my best friend? No! Of course, not. Want and need are Venn diagrams. There is overlap. Often times more that I would ever wish. I don’t know. I don’t know how to classify everything I say or do. I don’t know why I do anything or nothing. I don’t know if I want the life I have, or if I need it. All I know, is that I have the life I have, and I can either do nothing or something with it.

Our bodies instinctively do what they must to survive. If we need water, we get thirsty. However, when we get thirsty we decide whether to drink water or vodka. Or anything else. I can choose how to handle my needs through my wants. That’s why it’s so important to keep a balance. All vodka and no water makes Jack a drunk boy. But, only water makes him almost inhuman. We need variety. Or do we want it? Either way, it’s the human way of life. I refuse to listen to every piece of advice I get from parents, teachers, religious figures etc. and follow their instructions. But, I also refuse to ignore them.

This mentality has gotten me into trouble. Listen, then decide for myself. I’ve been doing it for a few years now. It got me into a nine-month relationship, a year of exploring different kinds of alcohol, and much anguish. It also got me to go to college, have a pet turtle for a year, and start this blog. Whatever my philosophy in life, good things will happen, and bad things will happen. I’d rather make my own decisions and be there when it’s time to take pride or take responsibility for the fall out.