Worth: Woolworth. Wordsworth. A picture’s worth. Because you’re worth it. S/he’s not worth it. All these words and phrases around the word “worth”. And I’m sure you can leave a few more in the comment section for me!
I have been confronted at least 100 times in the last year with the question of MY worth. Just a few that come to mind: A best friend lost to the “in crowd” (can you say *high school*??)…another–okay, a few who through action have shown me it’s not worth their time or gas money to come to see me, but I can drive all over Tar-Nation to see them…Phone calls that go into the wee hours without a word in edgewise…Giving more that is in the contract on doormat principle even though it means I won’t make a dime on a job… I received a (non photo) job offer that showed little respect for me and my experience…eeking out the time from work responsibilities, while supporting people through their heartbreak and stress and family balance to recover after a concussion and whiplash. Got a good picture of what has been going on over here? Holy guacamole, Batgirl, when did this all start? Mommyhood? No, waayyyyy before that.
I have been the first person to volunteer when someone needs something: the first woman to nurture, the first one to change my schedule to help anyone in need. What is that worth? I don’t know. It would have to depend on your measuring stick: money? No clue. Time? Couldn’t tell you. Love and other emotions? How do you quantify that??? And it depends on the person doing the measuring: me? The other person? The people I let down when I drop everything to help someone else in a crisis? A sticky question, no doubt…
I know what it is worth to me when someone else comes to my aid when I need it: An immense sigh of relief, some tears, and then the overwhelming feeling that I will OWE forever. I fall all over myself to make sure the balance always ends with me doing MORE for every one else so that I never have that debt hanging in the balance. A “thank you” has never felt big enough to me. Do you get the tone off all this? (enter tantrum voice) “It’s all been done TO me.” Pfftttt.
Stay with me, I know it feels like a rant, but really, it’s a revelation: It finally SUNK IN during the latest tussle with this thing called “worth” that I have had the power to change this the WHOLE TIME. Yeah yeah yeah, we all hear it, but we don’t hear it. Helllllooooo? Isn’t that the point in every situation? In the last few months or so, I have become re-acquainted with that stacked set of bones that hold my ribcage together. You know, my spine.
More tomorrow….
