To be happy, to enjoy life does not mean that our lives is free of troubles. In fact, it is in knowing grief and sadness, that I’ve come to have a deeper understanding of the meaning of happiness.

As an adult, being happy is an intentional act of bravery. We are trusting ourselves to make the correct choice for ourselves and for others. It means that we must choose ourselves first, we must decide that our life is worthy of taking care of, worthy of nurturing, worthy of loving. When we decide that we are important, we decide where to focus our attention and manage our energy.

The words self care is in the vernacular a lot these days since the pandemic started. Having spent time during the pandemic, mostly in seclusion and sometimes with a select few, our “pod”, managing the energy in our relationships to each other, and to ourselves has become more intentional. How we make ourselves available or not to others has become weighty decisions usually made after much consideration.

For me, I’m a natural introvert. I enjoy getting to know people individually or in small groups and chatting with strangers is not unusual for me but spending time at parties where I know few is where I feel most ill at ease. The pandemic gave me a reprieve from being socially awkward by giving me a socially acceptable justification for declining invitations to gatherings. I didn’t have to feel guilty for saying no, didn’t have to feel like I disappointed anyone. Most importantly, it gave me a reason to not make my monthly trips down to see my mother. It provided me space from my mother that I didn’t know I even needed.

The idea of giving ourselves love and care took me while to get used to. Initially, it seemed self centered and even selfish to take time and care for myself. I grew up taking care of my siblings and my mother and somehow along the way, I came to expect myself to do it. I took on responsibilities that no other siblings took and I came to think that it was my responsibility to compensate for the lack of that I perceived from my siblings. As time went on, my siblings were happy to relinquish their involvement to me and my mom reinforced my behavior boosting me to a favored position in the family hierarchy. And now many years later, I realize how backward I’ve been when I thought I was so smart. I wasn’t smart. I was just feeling righteous and judging others for taking care of themselves.

I had no idea what I wanted. I just followed my mom and anyone who had a stronger voice. I was a people pleaser to the max. It was a lot easier than figuring out what I wanted but over time, this wore away my spirit. I began to feel something was lacking but I couldn’t figure out what. But luckily, along the way, I started deciphering what I knew what I didn’t want. I knew I didn’t want to be in the shadow of my partner – I wanted to shine in my own light. I knew that I would be unhappy having a life that was centered around taking care of my mom, knew I was unhappy being verbally abused by her. I was finally able to name it for what it was rather than rationalize her treatment of me was acceptable.

I am learning to cultivate a loving relationship with myself, being kind to myself when I fail, giving myself grace when I unwittingly hurt others, holding myself to the highest ideals, knowing that I am committed to being a work in progress and forgiving myself for being imperfect.

I realized that others only treated me the same way I was treating myself. I never expected anything more than what I received.

Each one of us must make a choice as to whether our life is worth living, a life that follows our values, one that we believe in. Life is too short to live someone else’s dreams or to delay living my own dreams because someone thinks that they don’t follow their agenda.

Being happy happens when my values and my actions align and I know by my gut feelings when I’m off the path. The beauty is in paying attention.