Praise From Caesar

I received a formal accolade at work today; a written statement of appreciation for my skills and effort accompanied by some financial recompense.  The praise came from a high level and was echoed by several other layers of management as well as my peers.  I actually have five (yes, count them; five) bosses, and this honor was wholeheartedly endorsed by all of them.  For all of them to agree on anything is a minor miracle; for all of them to agree on something that effects the bottom line is damn near unthinkable.  So, it was somewhat unexpected and I was a bit taken aback by my pleased reaction.  In my opinion, I haven't done anything above and beyond the call of my position; I've only tried to consistently do the best I can with what I have, or to find a way to make what I have better or easier to work with.

Of course, I didn't turn away from it or send it back.  I accepted both the compliments and addition to my income with - hopefully - grace and gratitude, and celebration.  It's nice to be recognized, nice to be compensated and oh so nice to be appreciated.

In thinking it over this evening, it brings to mind the very human need for validation.  I believe that all people need - at different times in life and to varying degrees, sure - for the human mirrors surrounding us to reflect back to us that we are ___________ (good, kind, worthy, cared for, important, loved, beautiful, smart, pick your needed adjective.)  Maturity and experience teach us to self-validate whenever possible, but we're social animals and it is still necessary to have someone(s) in our life to fill in that necessary care where we are unable to do so.

This is the opposite of what I was taught by my Nparents and siblings in my childhood 'family.'  I was taught that no matter what I did, how hard I tried, how much I sacrificed, I would NEVER be good enough.  I was forced to learn by action and speech that my role was to strive for an endless and amorphous goal that was completely within the control of cruel masters who would quickly yank it from within my grasp should I ever come within reaching distance.

An example: I was a perfect student in school.  Every report card that I ever brought home was A's from top to bottom, until my second year high school, when the Clan finally broke me.  For eleven years, though, academic and behavior marks were always the highest possible grades and there was always a nice comment from my teachers to go along with my excellent marks.  I actually skipped a grade, too.  Remember, all this was happening while my family moved so often that I didn't attend the same school two years in a row until I was in high school (and by then it was much too late.)  I was taught - as I think most ACoNs are in some form - that it was my job to be perfect, and I did my damnest to be so.

But... (isn't there always at least one?)
I distinctly remember bringing home one of those practically-perfect-in-every-way report cards and showing it to the Nparents.  They told me I'd done a good job and that they were very proud.  (And they were; not so much of me but of having a piece of paper that they could hold up to the world if necessary and proclaim, "See!  How could we be bad parents or scary monsters when we've produced this!")  It was a great moment for me; I'd finally succeeded in being good!  I didn't expect or need any further compensation.  Being GOOD, finally, was a great feeling.

Until they paid NSis and GCYB for their grades.  Right in front of me. Right in front of me.  I received nothing for my straight A's.  But NSis and GCYB were paid for each A they'd received (something like a dollar) and half that for each B they'd received.  My reward?  I was told that they weren't going to pay me for my straight A's because - a direct quote here as I remember it vividly, "A's are easy for you.  They had to work for their A's and B's."

I remember thinking, "So how am I supposed to do better?  Am I supposed to pretend to be stupid so that A's will seem hard?  How can I do better than perfect high scores?"  How cripplingly sad.  I could write about so many other examples of this mistreatment, but I'm sure you get the drift.  It was always like this.  What does the sadist do if the donkey's neck grows long enough to reach the carrot?  Get a longer stick, of course.

So I spent a lot of my life looking for praise and validation from sources that enjoyed twisting the rules of reality in order to deny me that basic human need.

I'm thinking about the flipside of that perpetual lose-lose tonight.

At some point in my process of getting away from the fucktards who raised me and growing into my own skin, I have learned how to stop seeking praise from those who won't give it or who would use it to hurt me.  I have stopped living or dying by the opinion of the crowd and I have learned how to - mostly, I'm no saint - do the right thing for the sake of the thing's rightness.

I get up every day and I do my best, in my work just as I do in my life, because I am satisfied by the internal knowledge that I've done what I can to be ethical, to stay right-sized, to help those around me, to participate, to contribute, to create goodness.  A large part of my motivation to just be a good damn person every day comes from my desire to NOT be like the members of the NFOO.  A bigger part of my motivation to seek and spread joy is just its own self-fulfilling prophecy.  I'm out of the hell I was kept in for so long, I'm alive, I can breathe the air and it smells sweet - why not enjoy it?

Receiving praise was wonderful, and I'll take it.  I'll enjoy it.  I'll savor it.
But I don't need it anymore.

Love,
Vanci