Skip to main content

YOW


Sometimes when I get into a funk, things repeat over and over in my head.
Usually negative things.
But I am not the only one, right?  I mean, that’s happens to you, too, doesn’t it?  Oh man, please tell me it’s not just me…

Anyway, I probably should have talked through this with a therapist years ago.  Doing so might have gotten this god awful (pun intended) ear worm out of my head.

Here’s a little ditty I was taught in Sunday school or summer Daily Vacation Bible School when I was a kid:

“Jesus and others and you,
What a wonder way to spell J O Y
Jesus and others and you,
What fun for a girl and a boy** (can that line have been that ridiculous?  I know it rhymed with joy…)

J is for Jesus ‘cuz he has first place
O is for others you meet face to face
Y is for YOU in whatever you do –

Put yourself THIRD and spell joy.”

What.  The.  Actual.  F. 

Seriously, it has taken me 53 years to wash that B.S. out of my psyche.

Look at those lyrics.  Everyone else – your deity, and Every.  Single.  Other.  Person.  On.  The.  Planet.  Is above YOU.  You, my little Sunday School going friend, are last.

Last to deserve happiness.
Last to deserve peace.
Last to be taken care of.
Last.  Last.  Last.

What IS that????  WHY is that? 

My 7th birthday.  I am sure by this age I was already singing about me being last at the top of my lungs in Sunday School.
Maybe it was just a jaunty little tune.  But I think it was/is something deeper – it is a philosophy that I have finally learned to disagree with:

It is a lesson that says YOU are not worthy.  You are not special.  You don’t deserve time, attention, respect.  Everyone else deserves it, but not YOU.

I think I believed that for many years of my life.  I took care of everyone else.  Listened to everyone else.  Put my needs, wants, desires on the back burner, because they (and inherently I…) weren’t valuable enough to be taken care of.

And I am not the only one that has been brainwashed by that philosophy.  It is why so many people stay in toxic relationships.  Why friendships continue years after their value has disintegrated.  Why we stay in jobs we hate.  Why we don’t take the vacation we want.  Why we feel we can’t move to the city that would make us happy.  And why we hide our identities from family/friends. 

Because we are THIRD.  Everyone else deserves the moon, but we, we back here in 3rd place, well we just get whatever is left over.

It took me a few decades, but I finally have figured out that this is complete and utter bollocks. 

I now know that putting myself FIRST – not second and MOST DEFINITELY not third – is healthy.  It is not conceited.  It is not self-centered.  It is not embarrassing.

It is healthy.  It makes me a happier, more grounded person (which in turn can help me focus on the number twos – those “others I meet face to face” – even better!).

So yeah.  That song is wrong.  If anyone is going to sing it, it should be “Y O W”.

You
Others
Whoever/Whatever you look up to

So, in other words, PUT YOURSELF FIRST AND SPELL YOW!

Thanks for hearing me out.  I am hoping that by taking time to think all of this through and write it here (writing is my therapy), I will have erased the earworm and saved myself thousands in therapist bills. 

And if YOU had to sing this song and have it stuck somewhere in your psyche, too, I am sorry.  ERASE IT.  It’s a freakin’ lie.  Put yourself FIRST.  You will be happier and healthier for it.


** Sadly, this song must still be taught to brainwash kids, cuz when I Googled it I found the lyrics and a cheesy comic drawing…  Apparently the line I wasn’t sure about is actually “In the life of each girl and each boy”.




Comments

That guy said…
"A-MEN" - (in a non-specific a-religious sort of way)!
Anonymous said…
So true!

Popular posts from this blog

Content to Live

This is 59. Birthday photo 2025 - National Arboretum in the rain It is a strange age. It’s older than my sister Annette ever got to experience. It is on the verge of “old”.   Or wait, is it old?   Is it just that what “old” is keeps getting pushed back further and further, so actually we hit it a long time ago? I don’t feel “old”. But, as always for a decade or so, I feel “resolute”.   I feel “accepting”.   I feel realistic . I know my time on earth is limited, and I know I have used up over half of it. Some of it I wasted – watching movies but not really paying attention, sleeping, dusting (though to be honest I have not wasted much time on that one, one look at our house will tell you that). Some of it I relished - skiing down mountains, splashing in waterfalls and ocean waves, looking out at cornfields, clouds, and forests from high in the sky. Some of it I suffered – watching loved ones die, witnessing friendships fading away,...

Damn Skin

I honestly don’t know how long it has been there.  David and I both have this sort of weird disassociation with time – him much worse than me.  But both of us really don’t have a handle on how long things are, how far in the past they were, etc.  It is like time blurs or something (which is why neither of us can ever, for the life of us, remember what anniversary we are on until we count back). So, filling out the blank on the processing questionnaire that asks “How long has this issue been there” is sort of impossible.  But how do you explain to medical professionals that you DON’T KNOW?  So I lie.  “Around a year, maybe a year and a half…”.  I could just write “Your guess is as good as mine”, but that would be even less helpful and harder to explain, so I assign a number.  So yeah, I have this “bump”.  That’s what I called it.  A “bump” on the right side of the bridge of my nose, very near my eye.  It has been there “for...

The Girl Who Can't Ride a Bike

I am “the girl who can’t ride a bike”. I guess to be accurate, I should say that I WAS “the girl who can’t ride a bike”.   But it was such a big part of my identity growing up, that the never formalized (but often teased about) nickname stuck in my psyche. You know how most kids love to jump on their bikes and pedal around the neighborhood once they have figured out how to balance, brake, and GO?   Yeah, that wasn’t me.   I wasn’t that kid. I am not sure WHAT really happened. The one thing I do remember is being on a bike in my family’s garage in Omaha, Nebraska trying to ride my bike.   It must’ve been winter, otherwise, why wouldn’t I have been outdoors??   But I think my foot slipped off the pedal and I know for sure my knee hit the handlebar.   It hurt.   I remember crying. But I am guessing that it hurt my pride more than it hurt my knee.   I think I was already past the age where kids were “supposed” to ride a bike. ...