Confessions of a Former Praise Junkie

Confessions of a Former Praise Junkie
Freak and I spent most of six plus hours driving on Saturday talking about the nature of friendship. Seeing as how I've been very focused on finding more community, more people to share with, more close friends, it seems natural to turn my critical on this desire of mine. It's not really enough to say "I want more friends" without digging deeper into why you want more friends, and why you feel that way.

I'm reading to Freak out loud from my private, paper journal, trying to make sense of an epiphany I had Friday morning, trying to sort out the jumble of thoughts going through my head, like fence posts on the endless fields between here and Portland.

Also, given that no one person can be your "everything," it makes sense to think of types of friends I want, knowing that someone could fit into more than one category, rather than just looking for "friends." So what do I want? I want:

---Female shopping friend(s) to go bargain shopping with, to spend the afternoon window shopping
---Foodie friend(s) to cook with, to go to ethnic grocery stores with, to share recipes with
---Chick flick movie friend(s) to go see "girl" movies, watch friends and sex in the city
---walking/hiking/exercise buddies
---Travel friend(s) to take road trips with
---Lunch friends
---Potluck friend(s)-this last category is perhaps the broadest as well as being my deepest long term desire. I want groups of families who come over, hang out, talk politics and life, kids running around, playing board games, maybe someone breaks out a guitar or some music. I want community.

We're speeding towards Portland, eager to be off the interstate, and I'm feeling so blessed at my life as I share all this with Freak. I am shinning, and the sun is shining, and I see the riches of my life.
Looking at my desire this way, I see that I already have a few work friends, lunch friends, yoga friends. I also see how much I value my solitude, and am able to accept that, and love that about myself-it's okay to want to walk alone, cook alone, write alone, travel alone sometimes, and other times want to surround myself with people.

This little exercise also forces me to be honest about what I'm really looking for. As I've explained in the last several posts, I've gradually come to understand that I was born a praise junkie, and I've felt the need to live my life for some omnipresent observer, watching and judging my actions. No longer. I may see remnants of my old behavior, flashes of the desire to "show" my life to someone, to bask in their praise, but now that I'm here for me, living for me, I see how interwined my hunger for praise and my illusions of friendship were.

Sadly, looking for praise is not the same thing as looking for friends to fill legitimate needs for love and companionship. Love and companionship can be inherently based on mutual respect, and your self-respect helps you to limit the role of toxic people in your life. Like Freak, one asks themselves, "what am I really getting from this person? Is this relationship meeting both of our needs?"

To Freak this link between love and respect, between friendship and respect is elementary. His strident voice fills the small car with its adamancy as he seconds my observations and pushes me further, peppering me with questions, and I don't want to stop, I don't want to break up the wonder of this moment, this conversation, and I want to bottle it for later.

Praise junkies however have a hard time gaining such perspective. I know because I am able to see my own actions in a new light now. I see how I have kept relationships going long beyond their natural expiration dates out of misguided loyalty for past praise. I have pined for long-ago cheerleaders who made my life their life, who made my success their successes. I have ignored their toxic effect on my mental state in order to seek more and more praise.

But it was never enough. I was expecting the praise to fill my empty pockets, but it can't. It comes to me in a burst that I'm in the best position to praise myself and my joy spills out of the windows and words can't come quickly enough to describe what I have just realized.

No one else will ever know what it was like for me to take the bar exam. No dinner guest will ever know exactly how much work I did preparing for their arrival, how much effort it required, how out of the ordinary it is. They will see flower beds, and I will see hours of weeding, heat exhaustion, and anger and shame at the weeds. Others will see a court win, and I will see a triumph over disease, an affirmation of my humanity, a reminder of my worth. No one else will ever know what it took mentally, physically, spiritually for me to lose nearly 150 pounds. No one else will know what it means to be me.

I am in the best position to fill my empty pockets. I think about my future children. Is this how I want them to live? Is this the lesson I want to pass on to yet another generation? That we go to more effort for others than we go to for ourselves? That we dress up to be "seen" at church, and work, but wear pajamas and unwashed hair at home. Do I want to pass on the message that these others deserve more much than we do? That these "others" deserve cleaner bathrooms, nicer hair, better food than we do? Do I want to send the message that we *need* these others in our lives as the excuse and the motivation?

Freak sends me a subtle compliment and message of appreciation when he observes that this has been the change Flylady has wrought in our lives. We're wandering around an outlet mall, and back home, the bed is made, the kitchen is passable, no room in the house is more than 15 minutes from being completely tidy, and the bathroom sparkles everyday, our cats have plenty of food, and there's always clean laundry. And I smile because I know I'm worth it. I'm worth the presents I give myself, the scrapbook, the little spa samples. I deserve to live like an honored guest in our home.

I've come really far, and I know that I no longer believe such negative thinking that places others in the forefront, and that's a huge victory. But, in each victory I have to confront my demons, lest they dig in deeper, more subtly, lulling me away from the realizations that are slowly changing my life. There is still the habit of needing others to be an audience that must be exorcised. Do I want friends or do I want others to see my life, to approve, to praise? Do I want to feel superior? I have to be honest with myself here. Am I perhaps afraid to live life without the audience who has propelled me so far?

Am I counting on their reaction to validate my own happiness? Is this really what deep down I am yearning for? Am I wanting observers or am I wanting sharers of my life? It is fear, not vanity at the base of this powerfully held illusion that has shaped every relationship in my life. It is the fear that creeps like smoke under the door insinuating that its not worth doing if no one sees. The smoke that demands praise to damper down that fear. The fear of what if. What if no one notices? What if I'm not worthy? What if I'm the purpose and I'm alone? What without the audience I let myself go-if I stop trying?

What if? Will it matter if I'm living for me? Isn't it like heading for the beach and realizing that the talk is everything, driving us further up the coast, skipping dinner, because this is the big moment, not the beach, not the romance this is it. Who the hell cares about the trash at my feet, the state of my hair, when this is what it's about?

Does it matter if I'm imperfect if it doesn't matter to me anymore? Am I willing to let others be imperfect too? Am I willing to let them step down from the pedestal on which I have placed them? Am I willing to fully let go of the illusion? Am I willing to laugh at envy as such a silly, silly thing when you think of it? Isn't it really just an excuse for not doing what we really want in life?

Isn't this hero worship of the outsider, the would-be friend? Ignoring the praise addiction, making excuses, holding them up, idolizing them for *seeming* happy? Not willing to admit that they might be just as confused. Was I looking for friends or was I looking to fill my empty pockets with the emptiness of others? Am I willing to admit how for so long the praise addiction has driven me towards those whose pockets are also empty? Am I willing to be this honest?

We've crossed the same river seven times, and it's still hitting me over and over what this realization really means. I've been too afraid to be my own center, to be my own source of praise, to be enough for myself. I look over at Freak, and I know I would have this day over and over again just to realize how different this is in the history of my life, and how it has led me here. It took finding a person who fills himself, who says no, who gives because he wants to, and not fill an empty place to understand what was different. I don't care if we cross the river 10 more times, I want to know what this means.

What does it mean to be willing to admit that I have ended up looking for and drawn to needy souls, others with empty pockets, who were willing to make me the center? As I move beyond being a praise junkie, I see how empty praise often is, how agreement is often really self-protection. When I push Freak, when he pushes me, when I ask someone the tough questions about their life, I know that I am much more secure in myself then I used to be. Insecure people mirror others, only too willing to hand out praise, unwilling to risk the hurt of disagreement. It is only because I have come so far, done so much work that I can see now what was happening, only because now I am no longer caught up in its web.

In irony, I have been shaped and defined not by those who took on that role, who tried to feed my praise demon, but by those who did not, by those who share, who live, who are here for themselves. I have been shaped by these interactions as they prepared me to face this part of my nature. Prepared me to understand adult friendship.

The praise junkie has been unreasonably affected by childhood disappointments. I must come to admit how much I have clung to the past, how much I have laid the mantle of expectations on others, and how the emptiness never gets filled. I started this adventure with a list of what I want now, as an adult, as someone whose pockets are slowly starting to fill with knowledge of who I am and what I am worthy of. These goals and wants for friends to share these sorts of things with are rather reasonable.

But, for twenty years there has been a background hum that at times has been so loud I have heard nothing else, and now that I finally confront my demons, I can hear the melody of this buzz as it comes into focus and then slowly fades away. It is the song of children, "playmate, playmate come out and play with me." It is the longing for sleepover parties, secret clubs whose invitations never came. It is the desire for the best friend archetype who lives in every young adult book, the desire for a sidekick, or even just to be a sidekick to another's grand adventure. The deep hurt of a silent phone, of lunch eaten alone surrounded by others' conversations.

It is this desire for a "best friend" that causes me to ignore what I have going on in my own life, caused me miss what others had to offer, caused me to perpetuate the cycle in college, and again at law school, seeking the needy, seeking the empty, still unsatisfied at the emptiness, wondering at my own social disability.

I feel so light confronting this, seeing the illusion of something I have built up, that has held me back. I turn page after page, both seeking and answering, being my own guru, writing my own how-to on confronting issues. And suddenly pop! The friendship "issue" that has dominated my last 18 months or so is laid bare, examined, false parts discarded, and suddenly its not so potent.

Freak calls this the Aha! Moment when I try to describe for him what I am feeling. The road is twisting and turning like my mind, and I understand exactly what he means. Some realizations are so powerful, so potent with Aha! That life will never be the same. You may make the same mistakes, but you will never again do so in ignorance. The aha! reveals something about yourself that you didn't even realize you needed to know, and then suddenly aha!

I like my list of what I'm looking for. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life looking for Friday nights that never happened, allowing my 11 year-old self to take over my 25 year-old life. Aha! I'm not going to cling to the dream of a better past, when the realities of adulthood stare me in the face. By changing what I want, by making the list, by being realistic, I change what I expect from friendship.

And how changed this is from life as a former praise junkie. My list actually is a testament to how far I have come. I am proud of it, it is my list, and I really don't care if others think it frivolous. If I want others to share frivolous moments of celebration of the precious gift of life, then that is my entitlement. Amazingly this list is so much easier to confront than all the backstory of what friendship has meant to me in the past. Now I am starting anew, and the questions are answered not by the demons who have a vested interest in remaining hidden, but by the goddess who wants live her life openly.

Now, I'm willing to look at each category, asking myself is this a need I can fill myself? Am I using the excuse of needing a friend to delay doing the things I really want to do? Am I using defeatist language and passing up opportunities because I am letting old expectations and fears creep in? Am I letting the language of what if write this chapter for me?

It is nearly 11 o'clock and we're eating random Fred Meyer items from the deli in the car, because we're still a ways from home, and I'm still not done talking. And as tired as I am, I feel free. Not because I finally realized that, but because that freedom, that strength, all of the past realizations have come together to help me let go of this false illusion of friendship.

It's so funny, after a life of excuses, how absolutely excited I get when I realize this is it, I've run out of excuses, there is no turning back. I've reached this moment many times now, and each time, rather than frustrate me, it frees me. Now that I see how much I can, and do give myself, praise, trips to the mall, video rentals, walks, I see my path more clearly now.

And the best part is, that I'm not looking for someone else to fill the emptiness, to be my excuse, and yet, I know I'm now in the best position I have ever been in to have a social life, to have friends. I willing to admit what friendship is, and also what it is not. This puts so much into perspective for me, and so empowers me.

Its Monday night, and I'm writing this in front of the Olympics, and still everything feels different, like I left behind a huge load of clutter on the drive. I'm still trying to figure out how to really utilize this newfound empowerment, and understanding of my baser motives. But I see it subtly. And I see it in Freak's reactions to me. I can always tell when I am here for me, living for myself, doing my own thing, because Freak visibly relaxes. As he is not needy, nor empty, he tenses up under the weight of my need, runs from the praise junkie. But in my blossoming, he basks, not in my light, but in his own. I can tell more of my demons are vanquished because of how peaceful it is here.

I think again of my children, and of who I will be to them, and how I want them to know friendship, but I don't want to live friendship through them. Confronting my praise junkie, being vigilant against her return changes what sort of parent I will be. I will not live through their sleepovers and birthday parties, and they will not know the last-minute scramble of getting ready for rare company. Rather they will know without being told that I believe in myself, that I love myself, that I genuinely love my own company, and that our lives are open for others to share, but not for others to use, and not to fill up unreasonable need. They will know too that I do not need them, that I did not have them when I was twenty, or even twenty-five and could have made them my purpose, could have asked them to fill my empty pockets, could have loaded them down with the weight of expectations, past hurts.

I think of my life, right now, and it is enough. I do not need the children, the dog, the mythical friends to complete the picture. This, right now is more than enough. Thos who come into my life from this point will not fill some deep dark emptiness, but rather complement what is already here, thriving. If the children never come, if the dog runs away, if the potluck suppers never materialize, it will be okay. I will be proud of myself. I will love myself, and my pockets will still overflow with the beauty that is life. I will trust myself to be enough, to draw others to me, to be worthy. I believe that now, and there is no turning back. I will look for others to share things with, I will modify and expand my list as time continues, but I will not wait, I will not make excuses, I will not depend on their presence to live my life. I will remember that I did this-I gave myself this peace, this realization, shattered these illusions, grew to this point.