So after my last post, I’ve been doing a lot of thought – who am I? Really?
I don’t believe that I’m a *bad* person (just trust me on that point) but I have to admit to myself…
I’m a selfish person.
And realizing that made me feel ashamed.
Which made me think of the less selfish, childhood version of myself, and specifically the volunteer work my parents did before they split up, because I grew up thinking every family went to Tijuana every few months to pass out supplies to the needy.
It wasn’t until I got older that I realized just how much my parents went out of their way to help others while we were kids, and that somehow those lessons had faded away from the “adult” version of myself.
These were some of the core values my parents instilled in me:
- Do the right thing even if it gets you in trouble.
- Always take up for the underdog, even if that position makes you an underdog too.
- Respect is something that’s earned, it isn’t a right.
- You’re very, very lucky — so try to do everything within your power to help those less fortunate.
But somewhere I lost that last point, and really, it should be the most important one. That’s not the person my parents hoped I would become and it’s the not the person I want to be (anymore).
I was brought up by four amazing, incredibly giving people who expect better of me, even if they love me too much to say so.
That was a hard pill to swallow, but I’m grateful I’ve realized this while there’s still time to do something about it.
So that’s exactly what I’m going to do: start looking for an opportunity to really give back and help people again, the way that I was raised.
Wish me luck, kiddos!