Chameleon in the Park

Two seemingly unrelated ideas came together in my head today and made one of those magic connections: Aha!

I was honored a couple of days ago to receive a sort of award at work. My company has a peer to peer recognition program that allows a coworker to nominate another for 'going above and beyond,' and one of my colleagues wrote up a nice nomination for me. Although I find most of the corporate speak (particularly from management) around this type of program to be at worst gag-inducing and at best pandering, (Hey! If we're that great just give us a raise already!) I like that it provides otherwise seriously self-focused and busy people a formal way to say, "Hey, thanks for all you do."

One of the comments that my coworker made about me in his description of how I 'provide excellence' was something to the effect of, "I don't know how Vanci takes care of so much for so many people while making it look so easy, but she makes my job so much easier and I appreciate it greatly." I never turn away from thanks and kindness, especially after a lifetime spent fulfilling expectations from the NFOO with no credit and no thanks, so I graciously and gratefully accepted the warm fuzzy and gave it a place of honor on my little wall of accomplishments.

It occurred to me, though, that I do know how I do 'so much for so many.' I was trained well to do everything for everyone and to expect nothing in return. I was good at it, too.




From my earliest memories on, I can see how I was honing my already finely attuned intuition about and anticipation of the needs and moods of others. I remember being about four years old and waiting on pins and needles for ENF to come home from work with a peculiar mixture of dread and concern. Within the first few minutes after he walked in the door, I was able to tell what kind of evening it would be: hiding from his rage or being roped into the isn't-it-wonderful-that-we're-all-so-happy-and-nice-nice-nicey-family. I think that I often knew what kind of atmosphere his mood was going to set before he even knew what kind of mood he was in.

The same goes for NM's moods, though instead of rage she swung between a vapid and useless depression to complete and utter distance. The only constant was the fake 'company' show we always, no matter what was really going on, had to put on for guests in our home or in public. It was a false face, but we all played our parts, usually only learning later - during the rage or isolation portion of punishment once we were safely ensconced behind closed doors - what NM or ENF's true mood of the hour really was behind the Happy Family Mask.

I developed early on the capacity and capability to become whatever it was that the clan needed in order to diffuse a bad situation or keep us rolling in a good one. Chameleons change their colors to blend in to the background and avoid being picked off by their predators. I rarely changed my exterior to blend in and not be seen (though I certainly tried sometimes,) but I typically changed myself into whatever was necessary within the NFOO on any given day to keep danger at bay. Like the little Dutch boy with his fingers in the holes in the dike, I ran around trying to be whatever it would take to keep it all together, to keep us (me and the sibs, mostly) safe, to prevent scary things from happening, to try to lessen the chance of them hurting us. At various times I played the court jester, peacemaker, caretaker, stability creator, child minder or whatever else was needed to keep darkness at bay.

Eventually I found myself fulfilling these roles for NSis and GCYB too, as well as their ancillaries; spouses, friends, girlfriends, kids. I was most comfortable in the role of caretaker, so I cooked and cleaned and shuttled people around, often without being explicitly asked (although the expectations of my service were very clear,) and certainly with very few thanks. I was good at this, so good in fact that I think the loss of all my damn work was one of the primary reasons that the NFOO reacted with such violence when I removed myself from them. Who doesn't want free labor? Especially when I made it look so easy; it must have come as a great shock to them how much work I did once I was gone and they had to do it themselves.

It was, plain and simple, servitude. And that brings me to the park, not an outdoor park or a water park or a skate park, but a fantastic movie, Gosford Park. I love this movie with its upstairs/downstairs changing viewpoints. The aristocrats are the reason that there is an English country house, but the servants are the heart and soul of the house. They keep everything running, regardless of their own needs or desires and no matter how badly they're treated. Because they're servants. Not people in their own right; servants.

Toward the end of the movie, Mrs. Wilson (played superbly by Helen Mirren) as the head of all maids and female house staff, says this:

"What gift do you think a good servant has that separates them from the others? Its the gift of anticipation. And I'm a good servant; I'm better than good, I'm the best; I'm the perfect servant. I know when they'll be hungry, and the food is ready. I know when they'll be tired, and the bed is turned down. I know it before they know it themselves."

I identify with this on a visceral level. I know that feeling so well; I truly did know what was needed before anyone in the NFOO did most of the time. I was so good at the anticipation of needs of others that I - for a time - completely lost the ability to understand my own needs.

When I extracted myself, I remember feeling very, very lost for a while. Sometimes, even now, I'll find myself in a place and time that requires me only to look after myself, and I think, "Huh. Weird. What should I do?"

I'm happy to be of service in my job and happy that I have the skill and intuition to see the needs and fill the needs of the work and others. I'm good at it and *ding! ding! this is KEY* I receive credit for it and it's appreciated. I also do this in my FOC, out of love and kindness and the desire to treat the people that I love well. They thank me for my work and they *ding! ding!* reciprocate with kindness and anticipation of my needs and desires, too.
Huh. Weird. :)

I'm happy to be of service, like I said, but even happier that I'm no longer a servant. I think there's a difference, and it comes down to choice (mine) and reaction (theirs.) All of my attempts to be of service to the NFOO would never have been enough for them to recognize me as anything but their servant. Not their child or a loving daughter or a sister or a friend or a fan-freeking-tastic cook or anything else; just a servant.

My efforts to be of service to the people in my life now are rewarded with recognition, reciprocation and mutual affection. And the best part? All of this joy comes not from me trying to be anything that I'm not, but just from me being me and doing what I do.

That's just cool.

Love,

Vanci