What Doesn't Kill Us...

It's 2 a.m., and while I should be going to bed, I know I won't be able to sleep. I've been thinking about the old saying "what doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Is it really true?

Yes, life is hard, and we can endure more difficult times after we are put through something hard.

We learn how to ride a bike after we fall down a few times. We learn how to study after we fail a test or two. We learn how to be a better friend after we lose some of the best ones we've ever had.

We learn how to live after breakups that feel like someone put our hearts through a food processor.

But are we really better people because we go through all of life's trials?

We can learn to fear bikes if we fall too many times. We can learn to hate a particular subject or school all together if we always fail.

We can learn patience when dealing with frustrating coworkers or classmates, but we can also learn to judge. We can learn to understand when faced with people drastically different than ourselves, but we can also learn to hate and to fear. We can learn to love again, but we can also learn to hide our hearts.

Just because someone gets through a life filled with challenges does not mean that he or she is a better person for it. If it did, then why are there cycles where the abused becomes the abuser? Where the judged becomes judgmental?

Right here you might be expecting a conclusion like "so, make sure you take the best from the trials of life. Be a better person because of it." But that's not what I'm saying. While a part of our reactions is just that--OUR reactions, or the way we choose to respond to a stimulus--I don't think it is entirely our choice. If we could control what we learn, feel and experience, then life wouldn't be nearly as interesting. I'm not saying I wouldn't prefer it, but if we could control even a single thing--ourselves--then many of the problems of life wouldn't even be issues.

What if we wouldn't have jumped to conclusions and ruined a friendship, judged someone we just met, said something without thinking... you name it. (Obviously issues like abuse are different, but for the sake of my tangent, just stay with me).

The thing is, if we can't control the way we act, how could we possibly be expected to control the way we respond?

I'm not sure, but I know we are all responsible for our actions. If a woman comes home to her husband in bed with another woman and shoots them both, the fact that she was ticked-off is not a defense. She should have controlled her desire, and because she didn't she is held responsible.

In a much less visible way, we are also responsible for our emotional responses to the stimulus that is life.

One way to control personal responses, a way that I think is more common than we admit, is to limit the amount we allow ourselves to feel. Think about it: if I am told that "I have a good attitude" through it all, how am I supposed to respond when I have emotional, frustrated, and even hateful thoughts? If I've been told that "I'm always so positive," how should I relate to myself when I can't even touch positivity with a 39 1/2 foot pole? I do not allow myself to experience these emotions, at least in part. We can feel some of it, because that's normal, but we are given an allotted "grieving" or "angry" period, and we are expected to move on and pull ourselves up by the boot-straps. In doing this, I think we lose a little bit of what it is to be human.

I'm not saying we need to let our emotions run wild or toss all social contract to the wind, but what if we allowed each other to actually feel for however long it was necessary?

What if 5 years later we were reminded of "it," and instead of lying to ourselves about how we've "moved on," we allowed ourselves to feel whatever that emotion is?

What if we realized that isolation and a frozen heart could actually be a response to "what doesn't kill us"?

Imagine what society would look like if we stopped trying to tell people that "they'll be fine," "it's okay," and "you're so strong" when they really need to be mad or cry or complain.

I think there would be less hearts held together by band-aids and more hearts actually healing.