I think most of my friends and family are aware, I don't eat to enjoy food. I eat because it is a necessity of life. I don't like food prep or cooking, I don't like trying new foods or new restaurants. I am a picky eater. Always have been. My kitchen stays clean because I blend breakfast and lunch and eat salad for dinner. I don't branch out much from there. My grocery bill rarely fluctuates because I always buy the same brand of the same item, and I occassionally have a coupon or add beer to the cart. Outside of that, I don't stray from the path.
Last night, I went to dinner at a Vietnamese restaurant with Jeremy. I. Was. Nervous. As nervous as I was when Kattie made me eat sushi - but I went with it, because its Jeremy's birthday week, so it was really up to him what he wanted to eat. Damn birthday week! Anyways, similiar to the sushi experience, I really enjoyed the Pho! We had these yummy spring roll things with rice paper and veggies, and lots of sprouts (I love sprouts), and then I had some super good chicken noodle. I hated to admit that it was good, and I did have to ask for a fork because I am not into slurping soup & noodles with chopsticks, but I really enjoyed the food, and the company.
This blog isn't about food, but the story is a good example of my experience of branching out and being better about focusing on trying things I haven't in the past. I have spent the last few months really focused on embracing honesty and being true to myself, as well as being honest with other people about how their actions are making me feel. Even more recently, I have been very aware of the information I take in from other people, and how their honesty (or lack there of) makes me feel, as well as how I choose to respond.
Prompt: Can you tell when people are telling the truth? Can you tell when they are lying?
I used to suck at talking about feelings. Suck. Which may have contributed to my earlier post about not having a good relationship track record I suppose. Since the ending of both of my more serious adult relationships in the past couple years, I have really worked through my inability to just say how I feel, and as I've written about in previous blogs, have really gotten around that. But my mom raised this question last week:
"I think where you struggled was your ability to see when the other person was not upfront. Either through conscience of unconscience choices of their own. I think you have explored being honest to yourself. Have you explored your ability to see when others are not honest with you?"
Nice timing, mom. While it has become much easier for me to be upfront about my feelings, I think I am also improving on the ability to see through when someone isn't being honest with me. In my current situation, I am finding that honesty begets honesty, and that the more open and up front I am, the more open the other person gets as well. Which makes sense. How much easier is it to say, for example, that you have feelings for someone, once they have admitted that they have them for you? Logical enough.
What I am also learning is that when someone isn't honest with me, I don't have to accept that. I am allowed to question someone's words or actions, and I am allowed to call people out when I know they are not being honest with me. Has it led to some harder conversations? Of course. But am I in a better, more emotionally available, stable place because of those conversations? Absolutely.
It is not up to me to make someone tell me the truth or tell me what they think or how they feel. Your words, your truth, are your own responsibility. It is, however, up to me to make a conscious choice as to what I will do, how I will react, when I am faced with dishonesty. Sometimes, it leads to productive conversation; other times it leads to the end of something you thought was great. And as long as I come out of it happy and healthy in the long haul, that's what is important.