Anxiety ridden.
Peace keeper.
Naive.
High expectations.
You'd think that moving into such a close knit neighborhood would teach you a lot about others, but most of all, I have learned a lot more about myself in these last seven months.
Moving here, I had high expectations of what neighborhood life would look like; kids playing in the street, block parties and cookouts, new work out buddies, fire pits, game nights, friends who become like family - all in a brand new home we are proud to open our doors to. Fortunately, we did get a lot of this, but what I didn't expect was how much my people pleasing tendencies would cause me to live in a constant state of anxiety.
If I'm being totally honest, the neighborhood life can be weird. It's no secret when you have company or when you're not home, making me feel like I'm always under a microscope. Having so many neighbors with so many different personalities has made it difficult to have those big BBQ's or parties I had envisioned, and yet I always live in fear that I will hurt someone's feelings or make someone feel left out. When neighbors are outside, I wonder if they expect me to come say hello or if they want to be left alone. Gossip and drama makes the rounds, fast, as we get to know more people and share our experiences. The house I was so proud to own and show off became less special as we visited those with the same model. When my kids are invited over, I worry about them overstaying their welcome or even being welcomed at all. All the worry and wonder leaves me drained, but is also proving to be a major lesson.
These are no one's problem but my own, and work that I need to do for myself. In fact, most of these "problems" aren't problems at all, but creations in my own head through anxiety. I had to take a step back to learn more about myself and what I can do moving forward, because the reality is that where we live is absolutely amazing - I just need to choose to see it that way.
Here's what I know:
I meet people on full throttle. I give hugs, I offer drinks, I make food, I plan outings, I overshare, I ask too many questions, I laugh too loud and too often...all while wearing rose colored glasses. I can be your instant best friend, which I'm slowly learning can be a downfall for myself. It causes me to be naive, only seeing people for the new friend I'm excited to have rather than the individual they are. I've done this my entire life; during school years, when friends and family started new relationships, with the stranger on the plane; I meet you and I instantly adore you. And, if I don't, I'll be on a mission to get to know you so I can understand why. As I get older and my circle gets smaller but stronger, I want to shed this people-pleasing skin that's been weighing me down all these years. I want to slow down, step back, share slowly, listen intently, raise my standards, lower my expectations. I want to release myself from the burden of others' feelings and retire from my job as the peace keeper. I want our new friendships to have depth, and accept and move on from those that don't.
I need to see our new neighborhood life for what it is rather than what I expected it to be. It can be tricky, but it's also given us everything we wanted for our girls. It's allowed us to meet some amazing people, have nightly after dinner walks, front porch drinks, back yard fires; it's forced us out of our comfort zones and into personal growth we didn't even know we needed. And, for right now, after years of living on a main road and having young children, it's imperfectly perfect for us.
Who knew?
