Great Expectations -- My Own

In recent days, I’ve had a few things happen to me that have brought me an amazing insight into my interactions with others. Since I’ve been dealing with my medical condition, I have been almost militant in my decision to march through this thing like I’ve got no business but to be victorious on the other side. This has required me to really step out of my comfort zone. I’ve had to lovingly remind others that this is my life, my ‘fight’, and I am the one most impacted by the decisions.


By nature, I am a pleaser. Getting sideways with people is not really my thing. I will generally avoid conflict at all costs. In sticking to my guns about some of my recent life decisions, I’ve had to be a bit bolder with folks. That does not come easy.

I don’t know if it’s because I tend to avoid conflict, if it’s because I have a way of coming off more casual than I should sometimes, or if it’s my appearance or something else; but I’ve realized recently, that a good number of folks over the years have underestimated me. It’s been frustrating, disappointing, and even hurtful at times, and I’ve never really known how to deal with it or address it. Unfortunately, I’ve pretty much just let bitterness and disappointment in others take the reins in these situations.

People have dismissed my ideas because they do not come with the full force of a college education. People have discredited my ability to parent because I was a single parent for most of my children’s upbringing. People have sold me short in what I bring to relationships or partnerships.

What I’ve learned in the past few days is that none of those things really should have mattered, then or now. The key thing that I need to change is what I do with that kind of information. To what extent I let others’ perceptions of me impact what I can and should do is MY RESPONSIBILITY. The fact that someone else does not see the full force and effect of what I am doing or what I have to offer should not deter me from actually putting forth everything I have to give in a situation.

That’s gonna change from here on out.

Today, I was pent up in a doctor’s office all day long, waiting for my five minutes with a specialist. I worked from my Droid and some other borrowed technology in the lobby all day. The office manager was very disapproving. I remember thinking, “This lobby may not be my office, lady, but this lobby is also not my LIFE, and you’re treating me like I’ve got nothing better to do.” My consulting work may not be of consequence to that office manager, but my clients don’t feel the same. Miss Wendy, for instance, was rather panicked. 

I try not to make a big deal of these things, but I pulled the C-card on her. I told her that I may not have long to live and debating how I use my time in ‘her’ lobby was silly.

Later, when I FINALLY got out of that place, I was able to convince JC, my 23 year-old lifeguard friend, to go out to the lake with me for a quick swim. We went to one of the more deserted trail areas across from Oak Bottom.

I am sensitive to the fact that my decision to go for a swim in public right now has the capacity to make people uncomfortable. It’s part of why we chose a more secluded area. We walked about a quarter-mile down a trail to a place where there’s lots of water, sunshine, and a fair amount of privacy. I stripped down to my bikini swimsuit—stretch marks, ass fat, cellulite and all; and took off my jewelry and my head scarf. Just about the time we were getting in the water, an older woman, in probably her late 50’s, walked by, and stood looking aghast at us (me).

The woman shouted down to us in the water, “Should you really be out here swimming in your condition?”

I looked at her and said, “Actually, swimming is really therapeutic for me right now.”

JC and I looked at each other and turned to start swimming on our predetermined route.

“Do you realize you have no hair?”

I laughed. JC looked at me with wide eyes and said, “OMG, you have no hair! Susanne, is there anything else you’re not telling me???”

The woman on the shore then said, “Obviously, you’re sick. Should you really be swimming?”

JC told her, “Uh, that’s why I’m here. I’ll help her if she gets stuck.”

The woman then stomped off. JC and I began swimming to a small nearby island, I, stroking methodically, he, pulling along a floaty in case I got tired, and both of us still laughing about the “you have no hair” comment.

When JC and I got back from the island, our woman friend and a park ranger were waiting for us at the shore.

Apparently, the woman had gone and found a ranger to ‘tattle’ on me for being in the lake while bald and in poor health. Of course, upon our exit from the water, the old gal was doing all kinds of back pedaling.

“I was just really worried for her safety. What if she would have drowned?”

Upon assuring the woman that I appeared none the worse for wear, was in the company of a strong, qualified swimmer, AND had a flotation device, the ranger hiked back out to go find more worthwhile ranger-like things to do, and thankfully, took the worry wart with him.

I sat on the shore with JC and thought some more about the woman, realizing that she too, had underestimated me. The swim today was one of the best things about the day, after being cooped up in a doctor’s office, and stressing over work stuff. It was nice to move, it was nice to be in the water-- a place where my body hurts a little bit less. It was nice to be tired because of my own exertion, and not because of what’s going on inside me. And it was nice to swim a good distance, because I KNEW I COULD. What someone else thought or expected of me was not relevant.  A year ago, I probably would have gotten out of the water to placate the woman.  I would have missed a nice swim, and the fulfillment of my own great expectations.