Brittle and Easily Broken

After reading Gretchen Rubin's The Happiness Project, a book about the year she spent trying to be happier, I made myself a list. One of the first things Rubin did was make a list of Twelve Commandments, things she really needed to remember to do in her quest for more happiness. And I figured, I need to be nicer, so why not make a list striving for that?

I made my list, written out in my favorite fountain pen, and filled it with things such as, "be kinder than necessary," "spread joy," and "don't pick fights," all useful things I tend to forget. I left the list just lying on the floor in my bedroom, because: A, there wasn't enough room on my desk, B, I was still adding to it, and C, I wanted it where I could see it. My family members generally don't snoop through my stuff (for which I am grateful) and I didn't think it was anything to hide.

Until. Until one family member not only saw it, but said something about it to me. Said something cutting about it to me. Probably the WORST THING that anyone could have told me about my list of things to do to be a nicer and better person.

"Those rules of yours seem to all come down to 'look out for Number One'."

I was shocked. Why, why would a person say something like that? Admittedly, this family member didn't know that the purpose of this list was self-improvement, but STILL... it wasn't a very nice thing to say. It wasn't constructive, and I don't know whether or not that comment came from a caring place.

It's hard to try and improve yourself, to work on being kinder and nicer and more accepting, when it feels like all anyone ever does is tell you, "That was unkind." "Please try to act your age." "Be nice, okay?" It feels like my struggles are going unnoticed, or worse, that I'm backsliding.

It doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. But it does mean that I have built a wall around myself to keep from getting hurt. Walls aren't very conducive to open communication and general kindness; however, I don't know how much more of this knocking-down I can take without giving up niceness all together.