The other day, I read an article listing 16 signs that you might be a Type A personality. I thought I would see a lot of things on that list that I wasn’t. Instead, I found myself seeing so many things on that list that I so, totally am. To be honest, I was a little bit shocked.
I realize that I have my…THINGS. I know I have a perfectionism disease. And a people-pleasing disease. I always have to be doing something. (Even if it’s just reading a book or on social media…or writing) But when I hear people being described as a Type A personality…well, I’m not like those people. Am I? I always pictured Type A personalities brimming with confidence and bad-ass/can-do attitudes. I don’t really describe myself in those ways.
But as I’m reading this list, holy crap.
I’m not all of those things. But I’m
of those things. In some way or another or partly that way or another. (Except for the intolerance and career before relationships. And sometimes I really
can be good at relaxing.)
On New Year’s Eve, I started to get nervous that I didn’t have a list of goals or resolutions I was going to make for 2014. I mean, making resolutions is just what I do. It is Type A list-making at its finest! Sure, I have big plans for my life with the family or work or Cap City Moms. I know there are things that I want to do. But I had one of those “ah-ha!” moments where I felt like if I defined what those goals were, I was limiting myself.
About 20 minutes before midnight, I couldn’t take it anymore and I had to make some sort of list. (Why I’ve never thought myself to be Type A, I’ll never know.) I had a couple of running events that I wanted to do, so I wrote those down. I put the College Bucket list on there because we need to keep crossing things off. But then I just wrote: BE BADASS.
And then I let it go.
I. Let. It. Go.
I didn’t make a list of resolutions that included how much weight I wanted to lose. Or how many miles I wanted to run. I didn’t make a list of all those things that would “make me a better person” in this New Year. For the first time in recent memory, I started this year feeling a lot more hopeful and, really, a lot better about myself than I ever had.
I like who I am. Right now. Without losing weight. Without running. Without whatever it is that I always seem to write on those damn lists.
It’s amazing how freeing acceptance is. It’s also helpful to, maybe, realize a few things about yourself that you didn’t know before. (Hello, closet Type A Jill.) With that acceptance and those realizations, I’ve come to see (again) how much I get in my own way. I am my own worst critic and my own obstacle standing between me and some of my biggest goals and dreams.
I’m not 100% sure how to get OUT of my own way, I will probably always have a wicked hatred for long lines, and a pretty to-do list will make me the happiest nerd on the planet. But knowing all this sure makes it a tiny bit easier to navigate around the crazy that I create for myself. It’s a start.