Pushback

Ok, so I have to admit that, in my life, I've pretty much allowed myself to be a doormat. Coming with the whole thing of saying that I'll generally make sure that I'll do the right thing regardless of the fact that it might hurt me, I've started realizing that there's a great deal of harm to myself that I've been doing. To some extent, I've been telling myself, and everybody else as well, that I'm pure and simple not as valuable as others. That their feelings are worth more than my feelings.

So I've taken a step and determined that maybe being "old reliable" is putting myself in a position that I really don't want to be in. I take, for example, the Task Force. I've been applying to work at the Task Force since 1999. I've been an intern there, I've volunteered, I've been a consultant... I've done pretty much anything that they could possibly have me do, except get hired by them. A few months ago, my dream job opened up. Not only was it my dream job in terms of the fact that it was exactly the work I want to do right now, but it had potential to build into the position that I want to retire into. And Sue, if you're reading this, you're correct in knowing that your job is the one I'm talking about.

Now this job was great, and on top of everything, it seemed to be made for me in terms of the fact that I was completely qualified for it in every way. In those terms, I was actually far and above OVERqualified for the position. Not to get into the gritty details of it, but in a group interview process, where an entire department gave feedback, it *seemed* to me that the director of the department played a maverick move and hired somebody else for the position against the better wishes of the rest of the department.

It turns out that this other hire wasn't quite qualified enough for the position, and seven weeks later, they are no longer with the organization. And there is a big part of me that feels a flutter of hope that maybe they'll finally consider me for the position again.

Here's the problem, though. What kind of message does that send to the organization, to the director of that department, and ultimately, to myself? Gee, I'll just hold out here at a job that doesn't further my career, which doesn't pay very well, and which treats me like crap all the time, until you go through some of your other options, because they have timelines to follow, and after all, I'm not going anywhere, right? Don't worry about pushing me off to the side, it's ok! I'll just be here waiting for whenever you decide that you really can't do it with anybody other than me...

So now I'm thinking about the fact that their major annual conference is coming up in February, and not only did they put off the hire for two extra months to save money, but they also hired somebody else who didn't do the job satisfactorily for another seven weeks beyond that. So in effect, nothing has been done to prepare for this conference during the most critical portions of conference development overall. So again, that part of me thinks how great it might be to finally have an opportunity to take the position. Ok, and I admit it, I had a sadistic little fantasy about them opening up interviews for it again, and having me come in with a ripped pair of jeans and a t-shirt, throwing my feet up on the table, and saying "you know what? I dare you to not hire me again." But even doing something like that, wouldn't I still be allowing them to set me up for failure, since they already missed most of their deadlines? Would I then be putting myself in a position to be nothing more than a scapegoat for their own already-made blunders? And what, then, are the consequences to them for having made those mistakes?

I think that the road toward becoming a non-doormat is paved with me breaking a few dishes and making there be consequences for poor decision-making. I think that the greater road says "sorry, I had my availability to you, and you decided that you'd prefer to go with somebody else. You are now at a point where I can't even step in and fix the mess you've made with Creating Change this year, and I don't want to be your scapegoat." I think that my road has to allow them to go through a bad Creating Change and suffer through it knowing that they had the option for a better conference that they allowed to pass through the assumption that I would simply do whatever it was they needed, regardless of how poorly they treated me along the way. After that, sure, I'd be more than happy, even possibly thrilled, to take up the slack again and move into the position. But until then, I can't be as readily available as I've been in the past.

The same is true with my personal life. I recently came to the realization that I have never once in my life been with a guy who could publicly acknowledge who I am or what I mean to them in public. Even Ben, who was my boyfriend for a year, would have me hide when chatting with exes on ICU, and would just introduce me as "this is Brant" to people in public, not as his boyfriend or partner or whatever, and his fear of PDAs was outstanding, as well. And after I'd come to that recognition, I had to think about it.

Why in the world WOULD somebody take the risks associated with public acknowledgement of a relationship with me, if I never have any consequences for it? If I'll stick by them regardless of how poorly they treat me, or how often they place me in a box on the side, if I just pop up when they take me out of the box in private and say how grateful I am that they're paying attention to me *now*. There is no reason. Devoid of any consequences for failing to recognize my value, there is no reason for anybody to do anything other than failing me in that way.

Now, what I find relatively ironic, is seeing how much pushback you can get for finally standing up for yourself. And not even standing up for yourself in a hostile or nasty way, but just making simple statements acknowledging that the other person has done you wrong.

So I have a friend with a history of blowing off plans with me. About 50% of the time that we've had a plan in place for something, he's had something come up. And every time, I was understanding, and I told him it was ok, and that I understood, and all that jazz. Well, about a week or two ago, he mentioned going to a concert together. Great! A Dar Williams concert, so just for some background, he IS the only other gay man I know who is a fan of Dar. And given my family situation, me going with either Julie or Sara means the other one gets to stay home with the kids by themselves. So it's not like there's much of an option for me to go with anybody else other than this guy.

So a few days ago, I ask this friend what the deal is with plans, and are we still planning on going to the concert? If so, what should we do about tickets? He says "yeah, I definitely still want to go. Hey, why don't you buy the tickets and I'll just pay you back?" At this point, I get a little bit nervous because, quite frankly, we've put our entire household on a cash budget to save our credit cards for emergencies or gas, and I've got $40 in the bank and $30 in my pocket. The total of which, combined, doesn't come out to the $91 it costs for 2 tickets.

I go to lunch with him and a friend, and he asks if I've gotten the tickets yet. I admit that, no, I haven't, since I need to get a bit more money in my account since we're on a cash budget now. To which he responds with a snide remark about how I'm waiting for the tickets to sell out. Another day and anxiety attack later, I mention to him that the tickets are all standing room only anyway, and would he mind if we each buy our own separate tickets? He finally offers to buy them both and have me pay him back, which is ok, except that literally one minute later he says "oh, crap, I need to travel for work that weekend."

The old Brant would have said "wow, I'm so sorry that it's not going to work out. I know that you were really looking forward to seeing the show, since you haven't seen Dar in concert yet, and I know how much you like her." I would like to think that a far more prickish Brant would have said "so it would have been ok for me to shell out money that I don't have to buy tickets for a show that you never even checked you were able to actually attend, but now that you're laying your money down, NOW it's ok to take a look at your calendar?!"

I took neither route, since I'm neither the old Brant nor a far more prickish Brant. Instead, what I said was, "Not to sound like a jerk, but I kind of figured." He admitted that he thought that sounded kind of jerky, to which I explained that he was being really vague about it, and that I had the impression that he was leaving a back door open. He again stated that I was really being a jerk about it, and the conversation ended soon after. Just slightly upset that he would have accused me of being such a major asshole for saying that I assumed that he was going to cancel (which, just to remind everyone, that he DID actually cancel), I talked to a friend during my lunch break, who apparently had lunch with this other friend already, and agreed that what I did was act like a total jerk.

The fact is that this guy is, legitimately, going on a business trip, and he did really want to go to the concert. Ok, point taken. However, points should also be taken that he has a habit of bailing on me, some legitimate, and some like deciding to take a recreational trip to Rehoboth instead of showing up to my 30th birthday party. Point should also be taken that I specifically asked if he was still able/willing to go before we started nailing down plans, and he said yes. Finally, points should be noted that he actually made me feel bad about not buying the tickets sooner because I was allowing for an opportunity for the show to have sold out.

But why is it that all of these other points are somehow so easily able to be ignored, just because of the fact that THIS time, the REASON that he bailed out on me, is a legitimate one? So then it's not ok to point out that I assumed that he was going to bail on me? It's not like I called him names, or said that he was the worst friend ever, or anything like that. I just said that I figured he was going to bail. Which, again, he did.

Here's why both of these friends think that what I said was being an asshole. In a nutshell, I'm not being Old Brant anymore. And let's be honest, as much as Old Brant is not the guy that you choose to go out drinking with, or having fun with, or dating, or doing anything that you really WANT to do with, because Old Brant is the guy you come to when you're down, when all of your other plans have fallen through and you've exhausted all of your other possibilities, because you start thinking about Old Brant in terms of bad times, because Old Brant is the guy who's constantly picking you up OUT of those bad times. And we all want to have the security and reliability that is Old Brant there, ready for us, to pick up the pieces and not ask why, and not to judge the poor decisions that got us there, but just to tell us "it's ok. I'm sorry that happened to you. I'm sure that things will turn out better the next time."

But to not be Old Brant anymore, and to say, in effect "you know, you've made it a pattern of canceling plans with me, so I pretty much assumed that this time would be no different," suddenly creates a consequence for people's poor decision-making. Just like the Task Force, I can't simply allow my friends to exhaust every other possibility before maybe finally settling on me... until something better comes along again, that is. People don't want consequences, and they don't want to be told that they've made bad decisions. They just want to have Old Brant there, patting them on the back and telling them that everything is all ok.

But if I'm to stop making everybody else's feelings more valuable than my own, and if I'm going to stop settling to be sitting on the sidelines of life, waiting for somebody to get hurt so that I can go rushing in and make them feel better, then I need to start demanding that respect, and let people know the consequences of their actions. And I need to make myself matter more. The largest component of which is to say "I'm sorry, but I cannot allow you to brush me aside without consequences. I understand that you're in a bind right now, but I can't fix it for you this time. I would like to be there for you, but not as a last resort. I can prioritize you, but only if you commit to making me as high of a priority as you want me to make you."

People don't like that, and people are going to push back. But this time around, I'm the one who wants to put Old Brant on the side. This is a new and different form of Brant. One who will not accept other people defining how important or valuable he is. The Brant who is going to make himself a priority, offer consequences to people who fail to give him the respect and consideration that he deserves, and who is going to take a place amongst the rest of the world, instead of off to the side of them, watching out for all of their stumbles and scraped knees...

With all of that pushback on just one little statement, it would have been easy and tempting to say "well, I have felt kind of hurt that he'd canceled on all of that other stuff, but I understand that this time wasn't really his fault, and I guess what I said was a little bit insensitive." But that would have been giving in to Old Brant. So instead, I stood my ground. Even to my friend yelling at me over the phone and telling me how much I was pissing him off.

And for all of that pushback, I do have to say, I'm thinking that I like this New Brant, after all.