Rules

So as I was reading Tina Fey’s book, Bossypants, I was seriously entertained by her list of, “Rules of Improvisation That Will Change Your Life and Reduce Belly Fat,” and although I found it amusing, there was one line in particular that caught my eye in a more thoughtful way. Toward the end of the list Fey explains to the reader that it is not only vital for women to make statements, but to make them unapologetically. This idea of being unapologetic is something I never realized that I struggled with, until recently.

In fact, it’s this line in particular that called to mind a moment that happened at the grocery store with my daughter earlier this year, a moment that stands out in my memory. A moment that one would almost overlook but doesn’t because the universe is determined to make you aware of something meaningful. Isn’t that funny? You always know it’s important when the most simple of moments, the ones that initially seem insignificant, stay with you long after the fact.

So, we were at the grocery store following all of the “grocery store rules”, you know the rules. We were walking in a straight line, stopping at stop signs, staying along the perimeter of the store, avoiding the aisles, etc. As I pushed the cart in front of me I made sure to stay on the “right side of the road”. If you are one of those people who do not stay on “the right side of the road” at the grocery store, I forgive you.

Btw...

Anyone else... just me?

Anyway, as we began to make the dangerous pass by another aisle, an unknown woman, obviously unaware of the necessary traffic patterns happening all around her, came bursting out of the aisle she was in, ramming her cart into the side of mine as she glared at me with daggers in her eyes.

Now… I knew she ran into me. She knew she ran into me. And yet my instant response was, “Oh! I’m sorry!” followed by an understanding smile.

She grimaced and seemed quite annoyed that I was still in her way, even though she came roaring out of the aisle without looking in either direction. Still, she didn’t budge and waited for me to go around her, which I did, allowing her to move on.

As I walked away feeling slightly insulted, my daughter looked up at me with an inquisitive glance, her head cocked to the side.

“Mom,” she asked, “Why do you always apologize?”

“What?” I asked.

“Whenever we’re in the store or someone’s in the way, you say ‘sorry’. Why do you say that?” staring at me, patiently waiting for an answer.

But the truth is, I didn’t have one. So I told her I didn’t know and we continued our quest involving coffee creamer and cookies, most likely. I reflected on her question later that day.

I guess I didn’t realize that I did this so often. Since then, I’ve caught myself apologizing for similar occurrences, almost like it’s a reflex. The only thing I can guess is that somewhere along the way I was taught to believe that I have something to be sorry for, or maybe more importantly, that if a mistake happens, it must be my fault. I don’t know, but her question has lingered in my memory.

Why do I do that?

Like everyone, I’m sure I can trace connections from this false sense of responsibility to my past; in fact I know I can. However, the reason why I have this initial reaction of guilt or shame, even when things are out of my control, may not necessarily be worth understanding and doesn’t seem to change the fact that I simply do.

The meaning behind my realization should in fact be that, regardless of the reasons behind my apologetic stance (whether it’s due to my upbringing, my experiences, my personality or the ‘women’s guilt’ that is engrained way before adulthood, the guilt that Barreca and Gray so effectively speak of in their pieces), the more important fact is that my daughter is watching me. She is watching and carefully taking mental note of my experiences and reactions and incorporating what she observes into her perception of life. That was eye opening for me.

That day, in my local grocery mart, I had an epiphany. I became aware, in essence, of the significance of this experience not only for me but also for my daughter. It was a wake up call.

It’s an idea that Fey, I think, is trying to convey in her book. We may not be able to effect change in everyone and sometimes it’s not our job to change the world. But it’s important to remember that we can effectively impact those around us, even in our own little personal spaces. I don’t want my daughter to grow up in a world that teaches women to apologize simply because they exist. I want her to understand her worth and be able to embrace all the world has to offer her, unapologetically.