The Ire of the Pushover
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“You’re So Accommodating”
Sweet, unassuming, passive, pushover, amicable, amiable, adaptable, compassionate, understanding — when anyone not too close to me describes my disposition, these are the words they’d probably use. That’s what’s best about me, my subdued chameleonic character that lets me slip into most situations. Awkward, but unassuming. Quiet and unobtrusive. Mild and inoffensive. I initially thought that this was okay, that these characteristics were things to be desired. In a sense, they are. I really do value my ability to listen to people and consider all viewpoints. Being cognizant of the realities of others and factoring in other people’s likes, dislikes, comforts, and discomforts is a skill that not many people truly have. What rubs me the wrong way, however, is the cause of what makes me likable.
Do people like me because I take their needs into account or because they can take advantage of my kindness? Do I really value others’ opinions or do I just not value myself enough to give myself a voice?
I’m aware that these truths aren’t mutually exclusive. I know for a fact that there are some people who appreciate me for my acceptance, but there are just as many people (many of whom I have cut out of my life) that enjoyed the freedom to bat me around like a cat with a ball of yarn. One thing I do know for certain, though, is that a lot of these positive traits are like alcohol. You can enjoy them in moderation, but once you allow others to push your limits, you lose control and sight of yourself.
Y’know what? That makes me mad as hell! I tried to hide the rage that burnt inside me and I took it out on other people. The ire of the pushover is a dangerous thing. You let others pass your limits which have now become nonexistent. You’re angry at them but refuse to admit it, and you’re angry with yourself for allowing people to step all over you. You’re too non-confrontational to fight with others, so you take your anger out on yourself or on those with whom you’re comfortable…
