THE JUSTIFICATION OF (WO)MAN

When I run through my invader escape plan as I fall asleep at night, I consider how far and how fast I could run away in a chase/kidnapper scenario. Unfortunately, the conclusion I have reached is that it’s not far and not very fast. I could blame this on short legs or being out-of-shape but the reality is that while my legs are in fact, not long–I would consider myself to be relatively fit. I mean, we don’t have to bring my muscle mass to body fat ratio into the conversation but I stand by what I said. Here’s the kicker: I have asthma. This might shatter your perception of me as an absolute athlete and peak specimen of health and fitness, but sure enough–my lungs have a mind of their own and they aren’t afraid to remind me. 

I wouldn’t call myself brave, but many many people have and continue to do so. (That’s a joke, and if you didn’t pick up on that then this might not be the blog for you.) Back to my weak lungs and my problematic pride, the point of me bringing all this information up is that every time I exercise which (like I mentioned) I do consistently, I have to carry my inhaler with me. From treadmill to rower to weight floor (shoutout Orange Theory) I tote my silly little albuterol with me every step of the way. My lifeline. My contingency plan. My safety net for when I overestimate just how far I can run in one go (again, not far). 

Look, I’m not going to lie, it’s a little bit embarrassing. There’s a part of me that so desperately wants to explain. I want to tell everyone that I’m trying my best, that I’m running my fastest, and lifting my heaviest. But I can’t. Not only do my workout neighbors not care (which they don’t), I would be providing them with some sort of context for my situation that they don’t need and by extension, revealing my own insecurities. The justification of my circumstances or actions is pointless. 

But I guess justification in any situation is pointless. So, let’s throw it away. 

There are a few different circumstances where I tend to justify myself. Let’s put them in a fun little list so that you can write it in your own personal diary and then thank me for years to come. 

1. Justification when I’m in the wrong. My mom always said growing up, that if an apology has a “but” after it, then it really isn’t an apology at all. While that’s true, I think we need to add another layer. In this context, justification is synonymous with making excuses. In reality, justification can be done in a manipulative way that might escape the notice of the person who deserves the, “I’m sorry.” Sure, I can feel frustrated in the midst of a conflict when I feel as though my reasoning will somehow exonerate me from blame and by extension, shame. Because deep down, my justification is more about me feeling good about me than my being sincere.
2. Justification often creeps up in my life when I feel misunderstood. Unfortunately, I have a particular proclivity for feeling just that. When my words don’t feel true to my own perception of myself (a fear of mine, can you tell?) I go into justification mode. I want to elaborate and clarify. I want to set the record straight. This, again, comes from insecurity. Why do strangers or friends need to understand me so fully? What is the harm in coming to terms with the fact that people do their best to know me, and that is enough. I’m throwing away justification to leave myself up for interpretation, and not letting that bother me.
3. Perhaps worse than justifying myself to others, is justifying things to my own mind. I can convince myself of almost anything. Make excuses or rationalize my motives. Why? What is it that requires me to play these mental mind games? The answer to that question is long and nuanced so I’ll just touch on a few heavy hitters. Guilt, for one. Wanting to admonish myself of taking responsibility. Second, an inability to live in the tension of wanting to do good, to be good, and coping with the reality that I fail at that more times than I care to admit. I think maybe growing into adulthood and into maturity is learning to live in the tension of what I hope and strive to be as well as my shortcomings. 
4. I can only speak from my own experiences, but I find that I often justify the actions of others. Particularly actions that negatively affect me. I easily slip into the role of devil’s advocate. Sometime, somewhere I heard the phrase, “Does the devil really need an advocate?” It makes me laugh but also is a reminder to me that I like to see the good in people. I am advocating for a human, not the devil himself. I assume that people aspire to be good and fall short, leaving me to suffer the consequences. In throwing away the justification of others’ actions, I hope not to lose faith in them, but to have compassion for myself in moments when the words or acts of others end up hurting me.

Here I was, planning on not getting to in the weeds with all my thoughts on the matter, and failing miserably. I guess moving beyond the need to justify myself signifies a confidence in who I am. I want to find comfort in knowing that I have peace with myself, my beliefs, my motives, my thoughts. Any justification is born from a need to make the individuals around me see the real me, or worse–the best parts of me. 

So make your assumptions. I will inevitably mess up. I will say the wrong thing. I will misrepresent myself over and over and over. And I think that’s fine. I wonder how much time I will save when I stop falling on the crutch of justification and focus on what actually is within my power. I will pick up my inhaler, I will keep running, and I will spend a little less time worried about the opinions of others.

Your Trashiest Friend,

B