Let Me Help You, Oh Children of the Corn!

Dear Aster,

So, this isn’t exactly a cohesive piece of advice I’ve received on a specific occasion, and perhaps it’s not a ‘bad’ piece of advice per se, in certain situations. It is, however, a piece of advice that conflicts with who I am, and it is one that I do not plan on heeding any time soon. The gist of it is this: don’t trust and open up to people you just met. You see, I am a pretty optimistic person, and I love giving people the benefit of the doubt. I am generally friendly, and I love helping people. So my usual approach when meeting a new person is usually very positive. (I know this might seem a bit contradictory to some of my previous assessments of myself. To clarify: I am not very open to random acquaintances of a purely social nature, but I get very eager to help out a person in need when I encounter one.)

Anyhooms, when I first started teaching at a (pretty harsh) discipline-focused charter school, I remember my coworkers telling me that I shouldn’t smile or joke around with my students for the first month of school. It was important to establish myself as an authority, to set up classroom management practices for the rest of the year, etc. And I’ve definitely seen this strategy work for many other teachers. However, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it. The moment a kid smiled in my direction, or giggled at a joke that I would inevitably make, or even smirk as my clumsy ass would ram into yet another desk on my way around the classroom — I melted. I loved all my kids, and I loved showing them my true self. I could not for the life of me imagine putting on a stern persona to earn their respect and obedience.

More recently, life happened to bring two people into my life. These were completely unrelated encounters, but oddly enough, they both had a very similar trajectory and outcome. It went something like this:

1. Girl_1 meets girl_2.

2. Girl_1 finds out that girl_2 is going through some shizz.

3. Girl_1 starts helping girl_2, which involves abundant hanging out and talking. You know, typical ‘friendship’ crap.

4. Meanwhile, everyone in girl_1’s life is telling girl_1 that this is not a good idea, pointing out multiple red flags about girl_2’s personality. Girl_1 ignores all because she genuinely wants to help girl_2.

5. Girl_2 continues certain patterns that perpetuate her shizz. Her shizz escalates. Girl_2 proceeds to handle the shizz in a way that is amoral, inconsiderate, selfish, etc.

6. Girl_1 voices her disapproval of the handling approach. Girl_2 takes the criticism personally and reacts negatively.

7. ‘Friendship’ finito.

So, #4 is really the focus of this blog post, of course. Everyone and the neighbor’s monkey were trying to point out the warning signs of impending toxicity and betrayal, and yet there I was — relentlessly trying to salvage the unsalvageable. I realize this in retrospect, but for the life of me, I cannot imagine myself acting differently in those situations.

This is one of those times that is an example of that personality trait of mine, which I described in an earlier post — the one where I know all the possible negative outcomes, and still plunge headfirst into a thing that will likely hurt me. And the cautionary advice that I hear from people as I involve myself in the life of another damsel in distress makes sense on a cognitive level, but does not penetrate the emotional, which is the driver of all of my decisions. Fortunately, or not.

So, I know I didn’t answer your question, exactly. I suppose when I hear a bit of advice that I truly think is terrible, it doesn’t really stick in my memory. It’s the pieces of advice that actually do make sense to me, that I probably would agree with if I wasn’t emotionally invested, which stood out to me when I read your prompt.

At the end of the day, no matter how toxic a person seems, no matter how bad of an idea it is to involve myself in a situation that needs my help, I tend to do it anyway. Am I a busy-body? Perhaps. But it’s not coming from a place of nosy-ness or boredom. I genuinely want to help people when I see them struggle, and I feel like I can be useful. And if things don’t work out in the end, that’s totally fine. I will happily reserve my goodwill energy for other people and situations. Even if they don’t necessarily deserve it.

Love,

Orchid

P.S. Where do you think our sense of responsibility and duty comes from? How did your sense of responsibility and duty develop?

Context: as you well know, I am dealing with some annoying health crap right now that made me have to call off work on short notice yesterday. My bosses and coworkers have all been extremely supportive and understanding, and I love them dearly. And yet, I cannot help but feel incredibly guilty for letting them down, inconveniencing them, etc. Additionally, I keep apologizing to my boyfriend for being sick. I don’t know why, but it feels like I am not able to live up to something temporarily, while I’m sick. It’s like I have this idea of what my responsibilities and duties are in life, and I don’t know how to allow myself more flexibility with this.

[Currently listening to: La La La by Rameez. Let’s get those positive summer vibes rolling!]