Own Your Sh*t

I’ve been away a long time from my blog and the first time back I’m yakking about one of my pet peeves, parenting. Even though the following vid has nothing to do about parenting it does talk about denying one’s responsibility.

This has been on my mind for a while now. In dealing with a few issues in my own life, I’m faced everyday with people who blame others for their actions, choices, or just the inability to be mature.

No, I don’t have it all together. Yes I still make mistakes, but I’m not going to blame someone else for the decision that I made. If I do, it’s because I don’t or didn’t want to confront something that I see or saw within myself.

There was a situation a few weeks ago that had been festering in my relationship. That coupled with lack of sleep and the whole thing snowballed out of control. After a couple of days of looking at myself I realized what it was I needed, wanted and as soon as I could I owned up to my mistake and am making it a daily thing of mine to maintain the things I’ve learned.

It would be nice to blame someone else for my mistakes, for how my actions hurt others, but that’s not owning my shi*t. Our entire lives, especially if you had good parents, have tried to teach us that. If you’re the oldest, like I was, babysitting any younger siblings was away of building responsibility. If the younger ones didn’t do what they were supposed to do while said parents were gone. Who got in trouble? Yep, I did. Know why? Because I was the one in charge. I didn’t fully understand what that meant at the time, but it was a huge lesson for later.

If you’re a manager or hold any type of position of authority in the real world, that point is driven home everyday. You have a responsibility to someone higher up and if the employees aren’t performing well, who catches hell? Yep. That manager.

So why shouldn’t you or I have the same sense of responsibility? I used to think the authorities punishing parents for truancy was wrong, until I realized it was the parents’ responsibility to make sure their child was in school. If the child wakes up in the morning, gets dressed and the parent sleeps the day away because he or she is too tired for whatever reason to make sure the child gets to school, then yeah, the parent is responsible.

If a parent chooses to hold others at a higher standard, say to raise children who are not their own, so that the parent can sleep in or go hang out with friends or what have you, then that’s not owning your sh*t.

My children went everywhere with me, including the bathroom if need be. I used babysitters for work and special occasions. My children also knew how to behave in restaurants. Did they cry? of course, but they learned. I didn’t send them away first chance I got. Were there days I wanted to? Hell yeah, but my children. My responsibility.

So I guess it boils down to if one cannot take responsibility for themselves, how can they take responsibility for their children or anything else in their lives. Should that be an excuse for their behavior? Should special arrangements be made because of extenuating circumstances?

My mom didn’t cut me any slack. For that matter neither did my dad. In essence they told me to own my sh*t and get it together and do right by my child or else my child could be taken from me. Well I didn’t want that. So you know what I did? Got my sh*t together. I took responsibility for my actions because I sho nuff, didn’t want the consequences. And my child, now children have been a priority ever since. I go without before they do.

And if you’re thinking it’s too late to take responsibility for one’s actions. It ain’t. Taking responsibility may not be perfect the first time or the second or even the third. but with anything that helps build one into a better person, it takes practice. It ’s something that has to be done over and over again until it becomes second nature. It also helps when one surrounds themselves with people who will help them grow and become a better, more mature, and responsible person as well.


Published by: lynnchantale

Lynn Chantale resides in southeastern Michigan. Celebrating twenty plus years of marriage, she is determined to enjoy all that life has to offer. She has a mad affinity for milk chocolate, preferably Dove chocolate truffles or the caramel-filled squares (Godiva is acceptable), and plays the bass guitar when the Muse begs for a bit of distraction. She’s a multi-published author in ebooks and has recently stepped into the self-publishing world. So far both experiences have been rewarding.

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