Who Am I?

I’ve always been the good girl. The one who “meets or exceeds expectations” in corporate speak. I believe in doing the right thing. I play by the rules; I don’t make waves. I accommodate other’s needs. I don’t question authority when it’s doing the right thing. I am the “get things done” one, the “smart one”, the peacekeeper. 

Even in my early retirement, I recognized an inner desire to break out of this mold.  See my “bad girl” blog post from Feb 25 2016 where I talked about wanting to let my bad girl out.   (I didn’t let her out, it seems.)

I’ve always felt compelled to be the perfect one, pursuing academic excellence, making no mistakes. I know now I was unconsciously adopting an artificial role of the good girl in order to stay safe, to be accepted by others, and to not be abandoned.  And yes, that perfectionistic, good girl persona included beating myself up over not being good/smart enough, for making a mistake, or failing to meet an expectation.

The good girl persona has been who I am since childhood! My inner voice wants me to be safe and so wants me to maintain that good girl persona. I’ve carried that persona into adulthood, and it’s manifested in my responsible and accommodating ways. Do not rock the boat and do what is needed was (are!) the themes of my life. Avoid conflict, fall in line, and make sure that what you do and say is what is expected and acceptable.

Part of my skill set (Innate or trained?) of who I am has also been attention to detail, critical thinking, seeing patterns, and get things done (usually well before any deadline). I’m good at project management, good at planning (or have been in the past), and am almost always the one to join in to help – the willing worker.

Another element of my who am I is the blue-collar-Puritan belief system I was raised in – to work hard and delay gratification for that future moment when you could finally enjoy life.  Save for that rainy day; wait to do it “someday”. It’s that time now; someday is today! And yet the delay gratification habits are so embedded. 

And then there’s our culture norms that teach us that hobbies are worthless unless they can be turned into side hustles. I can’t recall how many times I have been asked, “are you selling your crafts?”  How can I be so frivolous in my pursuits? That’s certainly not good-girl behavior!

Who am I? The good girl. The designated planner. The responsible one. The one you can count on to do something and get it done. The one who watches and worries about “the penny”. The “closet crafter” because you can’t be frivolous. 

But the big question is who do I want to be? Because my inner Good Girl is tired.  She’s tired of beating herself up for making mistakes, tired of all the responsibilities falling on her shoulders, tired of worrying about being rejected or abandoned.

The researcher in me dug into the difference between a good girl and a bad girl. (Of course I did!)

• The good girl does the right thing and is socially appropriate – in manner, appearance, and attitude. She avoids risks, fears disapproval, and is caught in the “should trap”. She doesn’t make mistakes, is not frivolous. Good girls make the safe choices, does what is expected.  Good girls do not express anger, do not yell or curse. They worry what other people will think and are fearful of rejection. They tend towards perfectionism and contentiousness and feeling “not good enough”.

• The bad girl does the unthinkable. Bad girls buy what they want to buy, eat what they want to eat, wear what they want to wear, sleep when they want to sleep, say what they want to say. They know what they want and go for it. They are really good at self-care and pampering themselves. They don’t care what others think of them or worry about what anybody else wants. Bad girls are not afraid to make mistakes. They don’t apologize. They know when to say “no” without explanation.  Bad girls embrace their inner goddess; they wear sexy underwear and red lipstick with a smokey eye. Bad girls spend (waste?) money on the frivolous.

If I’m not the perfectionist good girl, who am I.  Who am I without the good girl persona, the roles I’ve taken on with that persona, the expectations I keep trying to adhere to? Letting go of my hard working, critical thinking, save for a rainy-day good girl persona feels like erasing parts of my identity. Yes, I’m dealing with existential angst! Who am I if not the doer, the planner, the capable one, the responsible one, the make-no-mistakes one?

I’ve tried to suppress my critical thinking, judgmental self. I’ve tried to embrace practical positivity – taking action to foster happiness, to be aware of the joyful moments. I notice when I’m negative self-talking to myself about making mistakes and not being good enough. These days I struggle a lot with suppressed anger as part of my grief/ trauma. There is still a strong inner belief that If I express anger, I’ll be abandoned.  If I make a mistake, I’ll be rejected. If I’m not perfect, no one will like me.

Do I even know what I want if I take on a bad girl persona?  What do I truly want to buy, to eat, to wear, to say? Can I break away from socially acceptable behavior even once in a while? Can I waste (spend!) money on something frivolous?  Can I do the “unthinkable”?  What would that even be? What is the unthinkable in your 60’s, without ending up in jail or the hospital or divorce court?

Someone recently said that my inner Good Girl is simply a part of who I am.  I am more than that, aren’t I? Don’t I have an inner fairy who wants to dress bohemian, do crafting, and read tarot?  An inner badass who does let out curses once in a while, thinks about a trendy haircut and color versus a graying pony tail, and WHAT?  What else does that bad girl want to do?

Unfortunately, what is going through my head now is a variation on the song, “who let the dogs out”.  But still, I’m going to work on giving the good girl a rest. What do you recommend I do to let the bad girl out?

Picture: the artwork we purchased in Sedona; in remembrance of a raven that walked with us on a part of that infamous ankle-wrenching hike.

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