Martyr mindreader

Driving home today, I had another epiphany.

I know right. Aren't you all lucky.

But before the e-word, lets give you some background.

I am, sometimes, what you might call, an overly conscientious citizen. A martyr, if you will.

I - like many females - derive some sort of sick pleasure in attempting to be all things to all people at all times. Despite my best attempts at laziness, my itty bitty candle often burns at both ends. Indeed, as I sit at the computer to write this (one-handed, whilst consuming ice-lollies), I am texting a friend about what time I'll pick them up tonight, fretting that they'll be inconvenienced by me, making a mental shopping list for the time I'll be inconveniencing my friend, watching an episode of Castle (with just my ears), and worrying about seeing someone tonight who is mad at me (wondering why they are mad at me).

I, as an eight year old at a sleepover, not wanting to wake my older cousins who were sharing the bed with me, tossed and turned in super slow motion. I'm not joking. Slo-mo. The whole time. The next morning they told me it was so incredibly annoying that they almost throttled me.

And when I first began driving, I was almost in an accident.

I was five minutes from home (where the most accidents occur, I once read), and trying to cross a main road. By nature, I'm over-cautious when I make these kinds of turns, so I'd been waiting for a while for the traffic to clear. Waiting, waiting.

I began to get nervous that the person in the car behind me was becoming impatient. And the person behind him. And the person behind her. Oh God, I thought. They're all sitting in their cars muttering about stupid P-platers. I felt it was my duty to protect the sterling reputation of P-platers, and decided to show off my responsible driving skills as soon as I could.

It looked like there was a break in traffic, so, against my better judgement, I pulled out behind a car when I wasn't one hundred per cent sure there wasn't a second car in the next lane obscured from my vision by the first.

There was.

And he almost hit me.

And if I'd felt a hundred per cent sure there was no second car and totally gunned it, he probably would have.

I need to say here, that I feel very lucky to have made it out of that stupid situation without a scratch on me. If there is someone looking out for me, I thank them for all their hard work. (And ask them why they haven't yet put me in the path of Daniel Radcliffe).

But anyway, on with the epiphany.

God speed, bunnies. God speed.

Today I was driving home from work. Same road. Five minutes from home. I was thinking about someone I know (and engage in a pretty hardcore intense hate/love relationship with), and what they'd think if I did decide to go back to studying (a stunning blend of 'I-knew-you'd-fail' and a not-so-subtle hint of condescension). While thinking this, I also got nervous that the dude in the car behind me was mad at me for braking, and moved my foot to the accelerator - and I stopped myself.

(This is the epiphany part).

Hang on, I said. Just hang on a second here girly.

You need to stop caring what other people think.

Because if you're focussed on what everyone else is thinking, and doing, and saying, you cannot give yourself the attention that you need. You might even fail.

You can't drive straight if you're not looking at the road.

And you can't decide what the right thing to do is by gaining acceptance from others. 

 

(I know, right)