I’m still awake. It’s 11:40 on a weeknight. And my mind won’t turn off. This happens every now and then, it’s really nothing new. But lately, my mind seems to be in overdrive, creatively speaking. I have had ideas for a children’s book and could visualize the artwork. I have visualized various ways our family can support our community….ideas and snippets of this and that continue to pour forth. I have ideas for various blog posts but thought I would put it out there and ask my people. A co-worker and friend, Amy, suggested I write about the greatest advice I’ve ever received. I really liked the idea so I decided to dig in.

As with anyone who has reached 40 years of age I have received A LOT of advice (solicited and Unsolicited) throughout the years. The “greatest advice” suggestion allowed me to travel back through time and think about some important conversations and themes that have become major tenets for me. After several days of deep thought I realized that there are three pieces of the advice that I consider to be the most relevant and to have had the greatest impact on my life and worldview. I plan to break those three into three separate posts because they deserve distinction and attention.

“It’s their shit. Not yours.” It’s been 20 years and I can still hear my father’s voice as this statement echoed through my end of the phone line. We were having one of our occasional phone chats and the conversation had eventually circled around to a family member. At the time, she wasn’t speaking to me. And hadn’t for over a year. Some things had happened in her life that caused her great pain and anger. I didn’t understand it when it unfolded and I was still struggling with it the following year when I learned she had visited with another family member in the same town but still didn’t want anything to with me.

A little background on our relationship: We weren’t always in one another’s lives. In fact, I didn’t even meet my Dad until I was 16 and didn’t connect to most of his family until after that point. But, I always knew who they were and idolized some of them. In my child’s mind they were like royalty. They were so special because they actually KNEW my Dad. They were connected to him in some way. This was how I viewed this particular family member as well. I greatly admired her. Making her animosity toward me even more difficult to handle.

Going back to the conversation with my Dad, I was explaining to him how hurt I was that she had spent time with my brother but didn’t even ask how I was doing. I was devastated. Didn’t she know how much I missed her? How much I loved her? How much I just wanted to be near her? After listening to my cry and complain for a time, Dad finally spoke up. He uttered those words “it’s their shit. Not yours. Don’t you see, Danielle? It doesn’t matter WHAT you did. The way someone handles the situation is on THEM. Not YOU.” Whoa. Time stopped for a minute. What on earth was he talking about? Of COURSE it was on ME if she didn’t like me. Of course it was MY fault. I wasn’t______enough. (Fill in that blank with whatever adjective you can want). Pretty. Smart. Popular. Likeable. Or get rid of that blank all together and the truth of how I felt was spelled right out. I just WASN’T ENOUGH. Dad was baffled at my lack of understanding. Rephrasing his sentiment, he explained that essentially whatever baggage someone brings to a situation impacts how they perceive it. And I have ZERO control over how other people perceive me, my actions, my passions etc. We all have our own gardens to grow and tend to. If I’m growing lilies, I may not understand how you grow daffodil’s and vice versa.

HOLY. CRAP. He was TOTALLY right. I only allowed an inkling of his words to embed in my heart during that conversation. But over the years, he said them again and again and again. That piece of advice has become the filter through which other people’s perception of me flows. I used to care. A LOT. About what other’s thought of me. Ever since I was a very small girl. It was always important to me to be liked. To help others. To be a part of something. On some level it is still important to me. Although, now it’s more about respect than being liked.

I was always told as a child “you’re too sensitive” because my feelings were easily hurt and I took on other people’s energy easily. Looking back, I know I wasn’t too sensitive. I was empathic. I was understanding on a very deep level what others around me were feeling. Now, as an adult, when some treats me or someone I love in a way that we don’t deserve I understand that THEIR actions have EVERYTHING to do with them and NOTHING to do with me. Just as I have the ability to CHOOSE how I react to a situation. Understanding these important pieces of humanity have allowed me to deepen my compassion and empathy for others.

I miss my Dad. Hugely. He left an imprint on my heart that will always remain. Our relationship wasn’t always easy, but we navigated the waves together. I’m so thankful for my time with him and that sage piece of advice. It echoes in my soul and I strive to share it whenever appropriate.

{A photo of my Dad and some of our family on the day I first met him, July 16, 1996}