One of the first things I bought with my very own big-kid-job money was a 1992 green manual transmission Jeep Cherokee Sport. It was way out of my price range and for sure not a smart purchase for a first year teacher, but it helped me feel more like ME, and gosh, I loved that car.
It was soon after my graduation from college and I was staying at my parent’s house for those few months. The house was full of teenagers and the driveway was full of cars, so I parked the Jeep on the street. I loved opening the front door and seeing it there – shiny and new: my ticket to freedom and adventure and good things ahead!
On a bright Sunday morning roughly 6 weeks after this purchase, I walked out of the front door to drive to church in my brand new Jeep – except my brand new Jeep was missing. All that was left was some glass from where the thieves had presumably smashed the window, reached in, unlocked the door, and hotwired the Jeep containing my heart, my savings, and new-found identity.
I remember what I was wearing, I remember where I was standing, I remember those hot stinging tears.
I remember a hug from my dad before he went inside to call the police to report my brand new car as stolen.
This was definitely not how my story was supposed to go. What happened to the freedom? The adventure? The good things ahead??
In the version of this story that my brain wanted to hold on to, the Jeep would have remained shiny and new and scratch-less. Untainted. And cared for.
Saba Harunie Lurie says that “When life gives you lemons… accept them. The first step when going through a hard time in life and coping with disappointment, is acknowledging difficult feelings. Anger, sadness, frustration, and grief may accompany the blow of disappointment. None of these are easy feelings to experience,” she explains. “Acknowledging them can mean allowing yourself to experience the full range of feelings, crying, yelling, or whatever else.”
I fully realize that a stolen first car is hardly a tragedy. But that didn’t make my disappointment any less real.
This week I was working with a client who is sometimes disappointed at the way her adult children’s lives are going. She fights herself and the sadness she feels about where she thinks they’re headed.
She and I talked about her version of the story – the one where her children choose all the things she wants them to choose, the one where they are never disappointed or sad, and the one where they are the belles of everyone’s ball.
I offered her that trick from my past that I learned on that Sunday morning many, many years ago.
“What if you played around with this thought: ‘I’m sad because in the version in my head of this story, things look different.’”
And that’s it, isn’t it? For a lot of us? Disappointment, frustration, grief, anger, resentment – I would bet that 9 times out of 10 those emotions come up because in our version of the story, things would be different.
There is such freedom in that acknowledgement. That acknowledgment helps us to move on to ‘Now what?’ Who do we want to be in the version of the story that really is? The one set in reality?
Later that morning, they found my Jeep a few neighborhoods away from my parents’ house. Whoever had it, ditched it. But not before having an adventure of their own. It had to be in the shop for a few weeks to remedy $4,000 worth of damage. To add insult to injury, my rental car replacement was an Astro van! (An Astro van was definitely not in my version of the story.)
I can’t wait to hear about how you’re acknowledging your emotions and owning the version of the story you’re holding on to. Maybe it’s time to let it go.
If you need help with that part, I’d love to work through it with you.
Oh, and one more thing! The thieves left a pair of really great Ray-Bans in the Jeep. I still have them. They’re a good reminder that the story often turns out better than we imagine.
