But the question got me thinking. If anyone asked me what I wanted for Christmas and really wanted to listen to MY answer, what would I say? I'm past the age of desiring some THING or believing that owning some THING will change my life or make me deliriously happy for more than ten minutes. So what do I want? Nothing? Do I already have everything I want?
My answer came to me pretty quickly, a surprise because I tend these days to strive for an inchoate internal state of being. I used to love feeling deeply, strongly and purposefully. I dove into the depths of despair with the confidence of a Michael Phelps—I thought I could swim through those depths and would win something as a result. A medal perhaps that would exempt me from any more despair. I LOVED loving people. It was a wondrously good feeling to make them feel cared about. I managed to be altruistic about it for quite some time, until a little part of me timidly suggested to myself that I might deserve some "caring about" too and noticed I didn't get it.
Givers label themselves and takers are quite content to let those labels stand. The ideal might be standing in the middle of those two options, being one or the other at varying and appropriate times. My friends these days are in that group, as am I. At least, I try to be. A few relatives...well, we all have a relative or six we must accept and deal with even though we wouldn't choose them as friends.
Sorry, rambling. Back to the question and my answer. My first snap thought was "to be loved." Which explains, of course, why my marriage was so volatile in the first decade and a half. I wanted to be loved the way I wanted to be loved. But, stupid me—I didn't marry me. I married the other half of a whole, so in those deepest parts of our being, we differ. Profoundly, though not even the marriage counselor seemed to see it. The counselor did help us broker a peace that has lasted and learning acceptance in a 12-step way cemented satisfaction with that peace. I know I am loved. I recognize that bringing me coffee in the morning and not nagging me to take back some of the cooking is him loving me.
But there is still an unfilled, hungry place inside. So I continued to think about the question and now I think I know the layer of answer below that last answer.
Is there anything you want for Xmas?
Yes. I want to feel lovable.
What the hell does that mean?
It means that showing me I'm loved would be important enough to elicit some free-will effort to find out what I consider being loved looks like and doing that. It seems to me that lovable people are those we feel deserve to have their wishes understood and attempts made to fill them, without handing out a bill for services afterward. (You know, that "sure, buy the dress, but I'm having the guys over to watch football" commerce. Or "okay, we'll have Xmas with your folks this year, but then you have to quit bugging me about printing your photos all the time.") Being willing to leave our easy comfort zone, without a single whimper about oh! the sacrifice! or demand for applause, to make a lovable person happy. A lovable person doesn't have to justify any like or source of pleasure, enjoyment or fulfillment before others will participate in or deliver opportunities for same.
Is it too much to ask?
Probably yes. It is a BIG request. But if you believe that lovable people can ask for what they want and as often as not will generate an effort from others on their behalf, it's not an unreasonable request.
Unless, as I have secretly feared since early, early childhood, I am not lovable.
Which goes a long way toward explaining why I don't feel loved, even though my intellect knows I am. What I get is love without extending themselves for me, though I see them do so for other people with no more right to such treatment than I have. (They tell me I'm paranoid or imagining it. They tell me immediately it's mentioned, so quickly responding as to be purely defensive. Meaning, guilty.)
Just another case of the injustice of life, I guess, which doesn't do one thing to quench my thirst for justice. Or to feel lovable.
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