you keep dancing

"...though we can't undo what has been done, we can choose to begin again. to stand in the sun and let the shadows fall behind us. to throw off our shame, fear and anger. to see our beauty and our brokenness." // Freeway

"When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It's to enjoy each step along the way." // Wayne Dyer

"What is the point of doing XtraMile and everyone out there thinking you're suchhh a hero when you couldn't even care about this relationship?!?" I screamed. And even as those hurtful, sarcasm-drenched words came out of my mouth, I felt a pang in my chest because those words sounded exactly like words that my parents have said to me before. Words that I swore never to repeat to anyone else.

"You are involved in so many activities, you serve in church, you're a leader and everyone thinks you are soooo angelic, and you can't even clean up your room or listen to your parents?!?" Ouch.

I remember that feeling well - the pain of disappointing the people closest to you, of giving your best but somehow, your best intentions get lost in translation and is completely lost on those nearest and dearest to you. No amount of encouragement and compliments from the rest of the world makes a difference when you feel like those closest to you don't even believe in you. And here I was, making someone else feel that exact same way.

If you're like me, you're a people-pleaser. You genuinely live to put a smile on someone else's face. And you want to be a world-changer. You will pour your heart and soul into a cause if you believe it will change things. But sometimes, in the midst of all the people-pleasing and world-changing, we end up hurting the ones we love the most. Somehow, when life accelerates to top speed, we tend to neglect the simple things. Like saying "Good morning". Like hugs and kisses. Like dinner together.

So often, we assume that those dear to us should just "know" the amount of things of our plate and understand that our priorities need to be "slightly" readjusted "temporarily". But perspective is always subjective, and it's easier to see things from just one point of view. We assume because they know us so well, they will be more understanding and forgiving. But often, when conflict erupts, we find out along the way that even those closest to us don't understand or know how much we are struggling to cope.

It takes one sarcastic remark that spilled over from a stressful day at work to trigger a full-blown three hour argument. But equally, it takes one small "I'm really tired - I need your help with this" to help the other person understand what you're going through. It's those small remarks that make all the difference between a relationship growing stronger or falling apart when life hurls incredible pressure your way.

Yet knowing those things doesn't make it any easier to take the high ground. Knowing that an honest answer is better than a sarcastic one doesn't stifle that human impulse to just want to vent my frustration somewhere, anywhere, and most often it ends up directed towards those closest person around.

Life happens. Arguments happen. So how do we deal with it? One of my colleagues shared this perspective, after going through a tough season with her daughter: "I tell myself that people act their worst, with those they feel the safest with. That's because they know that no matter how bad things get, you won't walk away from them."

And it's true. So often, we react to conflict defensively, because we feel like we're being targeted. But very often, the conflict arises when one side is desperately trying to reach out for help, but is being misread. Conflict happens because two parties care. Otherwise, it would be easier to walk away.

There have been many times I've felt like running away from relationships. Like giving up on trying to build bridges and communicating because sometimes it feels like the other party is not putting in as much effort as I am. But I'm learning that relationships - whether at work, with family, or with my partner - cannot be about counting and comparing. Nobody wins that way. Rather, a relationship is a balancing act, a dance. Both parties take turns supporting each other, accommodating each other, forgiving each other. One of the pastors in the church I go to said, "When you work with people, toes are bound to get stepped on. But when that happens, you can complain, or you can dance with it."

And I'm learning that sometimes, you choose not to walk away, not because you don't ever get hurt. You stay because somehow, in the midst of all the hurt, you've found a safe place. You've found someone who may not always agree with you, but who cares deeply. You've found someone who may not always meet your expectations, but whom you can trust.

So what do I do after a three-hour long argument that stretches into the wee hours of the morning, right after the adrenaline and exhaustion of a hectic XtraMile weekend, knowing that a few hours later, I have to be back in the office, planning for two more upcoming huge events that are just a couple days away? I shed a few frustrated tears, let out a sigh, take a deep breath, say sorry, wash my face, go to bed... and just start all over again. For as long as you can keep finding that safe place, somehow, you can can keep trying again. With the relationships that really matter, you always find a way to start again, and you keep dancing.