"Be Good to People" by Michelle Herpolsheimer

Warning: PG-13 content ahead

This article mentions themes of emotional abuse and unhealthy relationships. Please proceed with reading at your own discretion.

I heard a saying the other day….“Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” I’ve listened to a lot of sayings, but this one was like whoever came up with it was pointing their finger at me. No matter if it’s work, school, or my day-to-day happenings, hi, this quote is me.  

I don’t think there’s ever been a time when I didn’t overthink something. I guess I fear that the moment I do, I will wish I had. I really don’t know. I’ve told my inner voice countless times, “It’s going to be fine,” or “trust the process” and even “Ok, stop with this nonsense and tell your brain to shut it.” I also know for a fact I have a touch of this beautiful thing called anxiety (please note the sarcasm in my tone here).  Gee, I wonder why? Here’s the thing, though. I did not use to think this way. Believe it or not. And after 40 plus years, I believe I’ve discovered why and where it derived from.

Growing up, I had a wonderful life. I had the most loving, caring, supportive parents and brother. All of my needs were met, above and beyond. I never felt ignored or neglected. I wasn’t abused in any way, shape, or form. I felt safe. I was safe. My parents ensured I had all that I needed to grow, to be healthy, to feel loved, and to be treated with respect. I lived in a consistent, nurturing environment, and there’s no way to put into words how much it's worth knowing this. So now, as an adult, why do I find myself overthinking the big and even the littlest of things and saying these three words over and over like a broken record: “I am sorry.” There was a period of my life, for almost 5 years, when I was not in a good place. 

As a young adult, entering my final years in college while obtaining my undergraduate degree in Human Services/ Psychology, I started dating someone for the first time. How we met was less than ideal, thanks to AOL and the introduction of the internet. We started chatting, he seemed very interested in me and thoughtful, and we seemed to “hit it off.” Things move fast when you feel wanted and loved by another person. Next thing I know, I started staying over at his parents' house when I got off work (where he lived at that time), and then gradually but very quickly, I moved in with him. I completed a lot of “firsts” while I was with this person. Graduated from college, moved out of my parents' home, entered the work force full-time, adopted my first puppy (baby girl Molly), and became a pet parent. These aren’t the only “firsts” I experienced. I had my first “kiss,” tried alcohol for the first time, bleached my hair blonde (it was horrible), and did the one thing I told myself I’d wait until marriage for…I lost my virginity. I began removing myself from where I felt safe, truly loved, and comfortable, while at the same time, I thought that I was those very things with him. I also lost my sense of self-worth.

In the 4 years and 8 months we were together, this person had a way of making me feel like I was nothing. He stripped from me my heart, my beliefs, my values, and who I was.  He constantly yelled at me, belittled me, and told me I was dumb and had no common sense. He made me feel like I could do nothing right and made me second-guess myself every time I said or did anything. Yet at the same time, he would praise me and tell me I was great, and that he loved me. He never hit me; he came close once, but thankfully, he didn’t. But his words were enough. His facial expressions were enough. I was scared and felt ashamed of myself. I felt like a disappointment to anyone who knew me, including those who knew me best and loved me regardless of my choices. I stayed because it became my “normal”, and I was comfortable in the uncomfortable and humiliation. I was in such an unhealthy spot, physically and mentally, and I knew it. Until one blessed day, I broke free.  

I broke free by almost chance. He wanted us to separate (because he was seeing someone behind the scenes), and that was my way out. I took it and ran with it. I moved everything out of our house that was mine, felt like I was honestly going through a divorce, even though by a blessing we never legally married, and back home to where I was always loved completely. He accused me of things after I left, made threats even against me, and tried to make me feel worthless again. But this time, he failed. 

Trauma responses are real. I have learned this over the years. I didn’t realize how real they were until recently. I went back to school in 2022 to get my master’s in social work. I am in my last year, and to say I’m feeling all the feelings about it is an understatement. But during my journey, I’ve discovered that my saying I’m sorry and overthinking things is a trauma response for me. I’ve come a long way since, but I still struggle with this. To this day, I feel I am not good enough at times, or catch myself saying “sorry” for things I have no reason to be sorry for. I know I am a work in progress, and with each new day, it's a step forward.

I am grateful to those who lifted me, stayed by my side, and encouraged me during difficult times. That is why I strive to help others; it is what I’ve always found myself doing. I am and have been in a healthy place for years now in marriage, work, family, friends, and my physical health. Living with a chronic illness like CF has also helped me to have compassion and empathy. To those of you out there who find yourself resonating with my words, I see you and am with you. You are not alone. If you need someone to talk to, please reach out to someone, and also know that I am here. I want to leave you all with this quote I also heard: “No matter what happens in life, be good to people. Being good to people is a wonderful legacy to leave behind.”