August 2018

Is it true?  Are words just words? Isn’t that what we tell ourselves and our children when someone’s comments hurt us?

Words are powerful. Either spoken or written, they help us communicate and express ourselves. Unfortunately, words can be negatively charged, and as such, can affect our lives. Our perceptions, attitudes and interpersonal relations can become depressing and pessimistic.  WE are responsible for whatever we speak, write or text. We must, therefore, be careful about the words we use, and always remember that impulse texting or emailing in a near-conflict situation might result in misunderstanding, miscommunication, or even and argument. If you feel yourself getting upset, maybe wait a bit, cool down, and then respond. It’s more difficult to keep your composure when speaking in person, as very often our body language and facial expressions will tell what we really want to say. At least when you are on the phone, you can say you have another call and will call back to finish the unpleasant conversation. When faced with negativity in person, practice a smile, no matter how fake at that moment, and try to speak slowly to create some time for your brain to formulate the right answer. Unfortunately, words, once spoken, cannot be erased…

But it’s not only words themselves that carry weight. Sometimes, the way we combine them in a sentence will result in not quite the message we meant to convey …

Take the word “but”, for example.

“I love my new baby, but he keeps me up at night.”

When I was young, I was very adventurous. I lived for the day, spending my money, time and energy as I pleased. Sometimes my decisions were frugal, sometimes they were carefree. And that was fine for then.

But, thankfully, we go through seasons in our lives. Our perceptions, values and attitudes towards life change with time. And that’s fine too, otherwise life would have been so boring and so predictable!

Sometime around my early forties I started to cherish a slower pace. A quiet evening with my husband, a delicious meal we prepared together, a memory we created playing as a family – it all became more important than running after new things, new activities, new life experiences somehow validating that we are living the best version (social media approved) of our life. That new way of thinking and living continued to evolve with each year that passed. I now started to crave a change in my life that would reflect my new attitude. I felt I have matured – maybe even got wiser?

And I noticed that I started to look for more luxury in my world. For more sophistication, elegance and poise. I asked myself a simple question: What is it that felt luxurious to me? Was it clothes, jewelry, exotic vacations or a new spacious and modern house? So I searched the net, the movies, the magazines, the books. I studied people, cultures and trends.

And I found it. I realized that what I craved was already deeply rooted in me, in my European descent. Being raised in Poland, I traveled through Europe frequently. I lived in Rome, I lived in Vienna. I admired the architecture, the culture, the art and the feel of history and tradition in places I visited.  I loved watching  people from different backgrounds, all breathing and living the European lifestyle. And I noticed that the “mature” women were mostly very well put together, very chic and elegant and that they had charm. And somehow the essence of of elegance and chic has been forever captured by the French women – Catherine Deneuve, anybody?

Are you a yeller when it comes to your kids? Do you find yourself screaming at them almost all the time? You only told them to clean after themselves fifty times, but who’s counting … So you scream, because when you use your normal, human voice, they seem to somehow be immune to it and not hear you at all? Do you feel like a failure every time you raise your voice? Why don’t they just listen?

It’s a million dollar question. You’ve explained the rules, you’ve shown them what to do, how to make the bed, how to put the dirty clothes away in the hamper. You’ve repeated the instructions again and again. They are smart. They speak English. They make appropriate eye contact and nod as if they understand. And then something happens, and things go wrong again.

So you scream. And they don’t even care, it seems. They got used to it. The screaming now is the new “normal” voice. And you got conditioned, like the Pavlov’s dog – you see your children and you start raising your voice.

I stopped screaming when I got a glimpse of my face in the living room’s  mirror. I was in the process of explaining for the hundredth time why the cat litter had to be changed regularly. I looked like a possessed person in need of immediate exorcism. I scared myself. And I thought: “This is how they going to remember me – looking like a monster!”