{"id":108,"date":"2014-03-26T15:22:12","date_gmt":"2014-03-26T22:22:12","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/?p=108"},"modified":"2014-03-26T15:22:12","modified_gmt":"2014-03-26T22:22:12","slug":"best-boy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/?p=108","title":{"rendered":"Best Boy"},"content":{"rendered":"

Best Boy<\/span>. Best Boy. Best Boy. <\/span><\/p>\n

I was 8 y.o. I had just had a tonsillectomy, and as I came out of the ether-induced coma, all I could say was:<\/p>\n

Best Boy<\/span>.<\/p>\n

Maybe I thought that could save me. I remembered my Mom kissing my forehead and saying: \u201cDon\u2019t worry. We love you. We\u2019ll be right there with you.\u201d<\/p>\n

But she wasn\u2019t right with me. Not when the black mask came down and I couldn\u2019t breathe. Not when I woke up.
\nBest \u00a0Boy<\/span>.<\/p>\n

I knew I had done something wrong.<\/p>\n

Best Boy<\/span>. Even at the age of 8 I knew that I had to earn approval, deserve respect \u2013 I had to be worthy of love. Isn\u2019t that what we all do in our relationships? We want to be the Best Boy and the Good Girl. If only we could earn the approval of our friends. If only we were good enough to deserve respect. If only we were worthy of love.<\/p>\n

Best Boy<\/span>. Good Girl.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s easy to look back and see things I had messed up.<\/p>\n

I had broken my Mom\u2019s favorite lamp. I hadn\u2019t meant to knock it off the table. When she asked, \u201cWho did this?\u201d I said \u201cI don\u2019t know \u2013 maybe the dog did it.\u201d But Mom found out. They always find out. Maybe it was because we didn\u2019t have a dog\u2026.<\/p>\n

I messed with my Dad\u2019s tools and didn\u2019t put them back and when he came in saying \u201cWho played with my tools? And don\u2019t blame the dog.\u201d I said \u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d But he found out. They always find out. Dad had whipped out his belt and used it on my backside. What he left was NOT the mark of approval.<\/p>\n

I did so many things wrong that my internal tally of good versus bad was heavily weighted\u2026 to the bad.<\/p>\n

I would never be Best Boy<\/span>.<\/p>\n

In high school I somehow earned enough approval to have a girlfriend. \u201cShe said \u201cI love you!\u201d And I said \u201cI love you!\u201d We did everything together. Yep. Everything. I knew I was never going to be the Best Boy.<\/p>\n

Then she left me. And I had to believe that I hadn\u2019t been worthy after all.\u00a0 \u201cIsn\u2019t love supposed to be forever?\u201d<\/p>\n

I went to college. I loved again. I lost again. No Best Boy.<\/p>\n

I dropped out of college to work construction. I was big and strong. I won arm wrestling contests in the bar. The guys would say \u201cYou\u2019re strong!\u201d I had a knack for reading blueprints. They put me in charge. The guys said \u201cYou\u2019re smart!\u201d They gave me titles \u2013 foreman, superintendent, project manager.\u00a0 I had earned approval, I deserved respect, and maybe I WAS worthy!<\/p>\n

Maybe I had finally earned the respect that I was looking for \u2013 my own! What then?<\/p>\n

I fell in love, got married. Got divorced. Started over.<\/p>\n

What then?<\/p>\n

I fell in love. Had a son. Got divorced. Started over.<\/p>\n

I said to myself: \u201cWhy do I keep repeating?\u201d Never a chance to be \u201cBest Boy<\/span>\u201d that I didn\u2019t screw up somehow\u2026.<\/p>\n

My son is 16 now. He works hard to get good grades and earn my approval. He said that he wants to go to college\u2026 to learn to be a construction worker like me.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The other night he was loving on our little dog. \u00a0He had his arms around her and was leaning on her.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re going to smother her,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut Dad, I\u2019m just trying to love her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLet her go. You can\u2019t control her like that.\u00a0 That\u2019s not how love works. Let her go.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. I won\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stood up. \u201cLet her go! You can\u2019t make her love you!\u201d And I cuffed him on the back of the head.<\/p>\n

OMG. I actually hit my son!\u00a0 I flashed back to the times my Dad had used that belt. I looked back at my son. He had fear in his eyes. His voice trembled. \u201cI was just trying to love her.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSon. \u00a0My son.\u201d I put my arms around him. \u201cIt\u2019s OK. I love you. You don\u2019t have to earn it, you deserve it always. I will always love you. You will always be my\u2026 Best Boy<\/span>.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n

I think I was talking to myself, don\u2019t you?<\/p>\n

The next time you think you have failed, that you can never be good enough\u2026 remember that love isn\u2019t something you earn\u2026. It\u2019s something you give.<\/p>\n

That\u2019s what makes us a Good Girl. That\u2019s what makes us the Best Boy<\/span>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Best Boy. Best Boy. Best Boy. I was 8 y.o. I had just had a tonsillectomy, and as I came out of the ether-induced coma, all I could say was: Best Boy. Maybe I thought that could save me. I remembered my Mom kissing my forehead and saying: \u201cDon\u2019t worry. We love you. We\u2019ll be […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-108","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-toastmasters"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=108"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":109,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/108\/revisions\/109"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=108"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=108"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.drivingprinciples.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=108"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}