In a bid to add some life to my apartment, I bought a plant last week. Knowing very well that I am not blessed with a green thumb, I only invested in a small one to sit on the windowsill of my kitchen. With pride I brought it home and perched it on its new pedestal, already feeling like another soul had moved in.
In my excitement, I would water my little friend a tiny bit every morning while I was having my own breakfast. The poor thing had been so limp and dry when I bought it, that I felt it needed some extra TLC to get it off its feet. I was so eager to see its flower bloom and thought that if I gave it additional attention it would reward me more quickly.
In no time, I found my new roommate beginning to wither, its flower curling back into itself and withdrawing from me. Heartbroken, I reached for the watering can again in an attempt to breathe some life into the plant. In the moment I was about to pour the water, I remembered once reading that you shouldn’t water plants more than twice a week. I stopped myself instantly.
I had suffocated my new friend by caring too much.
As I backed off in dejection, I found irony in the situation. I consider one of my biggest flaws to be that I care excessively about the people in my life. I invest far too much in all my relationships, giving over 100 percent to all those who I surround myself with. Repeatedly, I find myself disappointed with the lack of equal reciprocation, and my plant has proven no different.
A friend once told me that I expect far too much of the people in my life, as I should not anticipate that everyone is capable of pouring so much of themselves into their relationships. In that moment, I refused to believe that people were incapable of returning what they receive. I am adamant believer in give and take, and in my mind it’s only logical to give back as much as you take. They don’t call it the Golden Rule for nothing, after all.
But thinking about it now, perhaps he was right. Just like we as humans have thresholds for pain, maybe we also have thresholds for affection. Perhaps people can only handle a certain quota of love, be it platonic or otherwise, and past that point, which I’m sure varies for each individual, they feel a need to pull back. Is there an unspoken boundary that we should not cross in our friendships and relationships, for fear of not getting the same in return? Is it wiser to give less than you want to in order to protect yourself from disappointment?
Even while asking myself this question now, I know that I could never come to terms with being that person. Should this mean that the people in my life will be limited to a precious few, then so be it. Those are the ones to be valued anyway, a kind of survival of the biggest hearted.
As for my relationship with my plant, I think I’ll play hard to get for a while and see how it goes.
In my excitement, I would water my little friend a tiny bit every morning while I was having my own breakfast. The poor thing had been so limp and dry when I bought it, that I felt it needed some extra TLC to get it off its feet. I was so eager to see its flower bloom and thought that if I gave it additional attention it would reward me more quickly.
In no time, I found my new roommate beginning to wither, its flower curling back into itself and withdrawing from me. Heartbroken, I reached for the watering can again in an attempt to breathe some life into the plant. In the moment I was about to pour the water, I remembered once reading that you shouldn’t water plants more than twice a week. I stopped myself instantly.
I had suffocated my new friend by caring too much.
As I backed off in dejection, I found irony in the situation. I consider one of my biggest flaws to be that I care excessively about the people in my life. I invest far too much in all my relationships, giving over 100 percent to all those who I surround myself with. Repeatedly, I find myself disappointed with the lack of equal reciprocation, and my plant has proven no different.
A friend once told me that I expect far too much of the people in my life, as I should not anticipate that everyone is capable of pouring so much of themselves into their relationships. In that moment, I refused to believe that people were incapable of returning what they receive. I am adamant believer in give and take, and in my mind it’s only logical to give back as much as you take. They don’t call it the Golden Rule for nothing, after all.
But thinking about it now, perhaps he was right. Just like we as humans have thresholds for pain, maybe we also have thresholds for affection. Perhaps people can only handle a certain quota of love, be it platonic or otherwise, and past that point, which I’m sure varies for each individual, they feel a need to pull back. Is there an unspoken boundary that we should not cross in our friendships and relationships, for fear of not getting the same in return? Is it wiser to give less than you want to in order to protect yourself from disappointment?
Even while asking myself this question now, I know that I could never come to terms with being that person. Should this mean that the people in my life will be limited to a precious few, then so be it. Those are the ones to be valued anyway, a kind of survival of the biggest hearted.
As for my relationship with my plant, I think I’ll play hard to get for a while and see how it goes.
1 comment:
I think playing hard to get with your plant should definitely do the trick :P
I myself have had this problem - giving more than I should, and the receiver will definitely withdraw from you when you do this.. it's human nature, I believe. It's something I've struggled with and I'm just now learning to deal with it - i think the key to getting over this issue is that the person who is receiving "too much" should be able to tell you WHEN you're giving too much - not just slowly withdraw from you. When you've found that person who will be honest and tell you rather than withdrawing, keep him :)
Great post mays, as usual!! :) I love reading your posts everyday - keep them coming!
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