Today I woke up with the song in my head What You Won’t Do for Love by Bobby Caldwell. I like to think songs get stuck up there randomly, but who knows? I still try to rationalize a song’s significance – every time.
In my reading into the chorus, I remembered an epiphany I had some years ago. During therapy, I realized that I hadn’t lived my life for me. I wasn’t driven to accomplish things for myself.
I was driven by things like provoking envy, admiration, praise from others. What helped make this fact for me was when I thought about the most common things I enjoyed: lifting weights, playing sports, playing music, perfecting my hair, dressing to impress, etc. Any of those day to day things I did to be appreciated by someone else.
I performed my life. There’s a part of me that thinks, ‘Well, that’s just textbook extrovert’. The problem with needing an audience to get things done is that there won’t always be an audience available.
It’s too easy to chalk it up as typical extrovert behavior. That’s as weak as matching your behavior to a newspaper horoscope. Bologne! Malarky. Unacceptable.
I might not ever feel like I set and achieved goals for myself, but maybe if I tell myself enough, I’ll start to believe it.
It’s work a try.