Vocabulary Lesson

Ravishing Sight

Proud: Feeling pleasure or satisfaction over something regarded as highly honorable or creditable to oneself.  —Unabridged Random House Dictionary

A couple of weeks ago, I met the nurse practitioner who will be my new primary care provider (more on that weird encounter here).  She gave me many gifts—opportunities to practice mindfulness, chances to hold an open mind, occasions to strengthen my tolerance and my boundaries.  After speaking with her for ten minutes, she also said she was proud of me.

(Cue Crickets)

See, I have a bit of an issue with people claiming to be proud of me.  The use of the word proud or pride means they have some vested interest in me, that they, in some way, are responsible for or can take credit for who I am or what I’ve done.

A few people can legitimately make this claim:

  1. My Immediate Family.  Those who raised me, shaped my character, or built the original hurdles I learned to jump can actually see their own handiwork in who I am today.  They are allowed to be proud of what they’ve done (or not so proud, as the case may be).
  2. Close Friends.  The people who stuck with me through the best and worst, who gave council and butt-kickings, who lost sleep and traveled distance to help me can also claim pride in their efforts to keep me alive.
  3. My Therapists.  The ones who actually made a difference.  The ones who struggled with and for me.  The ones who went above and beyond professional expectations.  They should be proud of themselves because of my successes and the fact that I’m still alive and walking around.

That’s it.

Now, I’m aware that people use proud and pride incorrectly.  Not everyone is an English major or is gnat’s ass picky about language.  What they really mean to say is that they admire me.  They might even be in awe of me.  Or even just happy for me.  That’s lovely.  And appropriate.  Thank you.

To claim to be proud of me after knowing me for ten minutes undermines my ownership of my own experience.  It’s a form of condescension—a pat on the head.  It effectively puts me, as a person with mental illness, in a place of less than, lower than, weaker than.  It tries to shove me in a corner.

baby

That’s right.  Nobody.  And I don’t need Patrick Swayze to rescue me, either, because my world is round, Baby!  I know who I am, what I’ve accomplished, and what a freaking force of nature I’ve become.  All that’s needed is a little vocabulary lesson if this misusage flub happens again.  And it will.  Not just with my new PCP, but with anyone who feels so uncomfortable with my unusual life that they need to discredit it.

A gentle whack with my Unabridged Dictionary ought to do the trick.

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14 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Val Boyko
    Aug 27, 2015 @ 10:02:04

    I hear you Sandy! Makes me also wonder how she might feel superior to others… When there is love this kind of remark connects us, when there is not, it separates.
    I am happy for you to have found your voice and to have shared here 😉

    Reply

  2. Servetus
    Aug 27, 2015 @ 11:58:36

    OMG, totally agree!!!

    Reply

  3. Zoe
    Aug 27, 2015 @ 13:04:47

    Yes! I thought I was the only one who felt uncomfortable when my mental health team threw that at me. I’m there like, “we are not close enough for this.” I don’t know. It just feels weird.

    Reply

  4. Littlesundog
    Aug 27, 2015 @ 13:23:42

    You know, I am not sure most people think about the words they use. Here in the South people can be very lax about choice of words. Nice artwork by the way. 😀

    Reply

  5. kirizar
    Aug 27, 2015 @ 21:13:18

    A little judicious dictionary Jujitsu might just be the ticket. Be sure to use the Unabridged Oxford English dictionary…unless you fear carpel tunnel. Then your average, hard-bound collegiate model should work just as fine. Remember to keep the spine facing outward when you bring it down on their head.

    Reply

  6. Anita S
    Aug 28, 2015 @ 19:03:52

    I never thought of it this way. I probably use that word when I shouldn’t.

    Reply

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