My Michelle

I was thinking this morning as I was doing the dishes for the first time in about 10 days, about compliments. Or more specifically, the effect of our words. I read in a book a long time ago something along the lines of, "If we knew the affect our words had on other people, we would choose silence." And yesterday on Dr. Phil, or sometime in the past week when I was flipping through dozens of channels at the rate of 27 channels per second, I heard him say something like this: "When we get to the end of our life, we will see clearly the impact our decisions have had on others." I really do believe that.

Nothing has made me more aware of how I speak or what I say than my own children. Sometimes my kids will repeat back to me what they've heard me say and I'm horrified. It just sounds wrong coming out of the mouth of a sweet 3 year old with a speech impediment.  Or I will lose my cool with them and I see their devastated little faces looking up at me. Yeah, nothing makes me feel like a schmuck faster than that.

But there are times when people say things so small, almost in passing, and it can change how you view the world. Or it can be just the thing you need to hear to make a positive decision in your life. Or sadly, a negative one. I want to focus a little more on the positive though.

When I was 22 I was leaving my mission and feeling in some ways, on top of the world, and in other ways, more vulnerable than I had ever felt in my life. Although on my mission I spent 18 months talking about things quite personal, I also had the security of being a missionary. It was expected of me. I had a tag that proved it was my job to do what I did. I was with 150 other girls doing the same thing. Going home would mean leaving that security. It also meant freedom. And boys. And no more dresses. And sleeping in. I digress...

I had the same kind of strange insecurity when I graduated from college and no longer had the identity of "student" to fall back on; no more good excuses for being lazy, irresponsible, acting like 17 credits was the hardest thing any person has ever done, paying $130 rent, never owning a single piece of kitchenware... That was a hard transition for me.

Anyway, as I was leaving my mission, I was excited and happy on the outside. And terrified on the inside. I was terrified about things that just didn't make sense. I would be re-entering the dating world and with that came the very annoying practice of making myself interesting, attractive, and desirable to the opposite sex. A feat I never truly achieved. :) This was one of my many secret anxieties. A couple of days before I left my mission I found a note in my mailbox. It was a piece of notebook paper with just a quick note scrawled upon it.

It was from my friend Michelle.  Even though I hadn't expressed much to her of my fears, she had written several things I really needed to hear.  One thing in particular jumped out at me. She couldn't have known of my unspoken fears but she had written something about how the person I married would adore me so completely because I am easily capable of being adored that much. She wrote it a lot better.

I carried that piece of paper with me and knew exactly where it was at any given time until I was about 25. Which incidentally, coincides with when I met J. I read it and reread it when I was home alone on a Friday night and my friends all had dates. I read and reread it when I had to break up with a boyfriend. I read and reread and reread it when I moved to St. Louis and suddenly became the queen of all bumbling idiots in front of any guy I liked. I remember driving home from one guy's house one night and I started crying. I had been SO stupid and I was just so sad that at 25 I was just learning that I had acute adult onset stupidity.

That night I happened to IM with J (who was just a friend) and I expressed my dismay at my stupidity and he responded, "I doubt he put as much stock in it as you did". I'm sure he has no memory of the conversation, but it was exactly what I needed to hear. Interestingly enough, that very statement has been a prevalent theme in our marriage.

There's no way Michelle could have known the impact that note would have on me. I think about that note all the time when I have a desire to do something nice and then brush it off thinking it won't really make that much of a difference. Even after everything I've just written, I can't fully articulate how profound of an effect that note had on me. Sometimes it was just the comfort of knowing that someone who knew me, warts 'n all still thought that about me.

I want to be more mindful of the things I say. I want the things I say and do to have a positive effect. I think we can all really make some positive ripples if we actively work at saying and doing things that will help bring people up. And we don't even have to wait for an opportunity, we can make them. One of the things I love most about Michelle's note was, it wasn't solicited by me having a hard day or being blue, she just thought it and she wrote it. I wonder if she even remembers....

Edited to add: I still have the note. Just came across it a couple of months ago in a move. 2013.  Don't know where my birth certificate is, but this note--it's safe.