Be Happy for me, Dammit

Andy and I bought our first house at the end of April.  I've never lived in a house that we owned, growing up in parsonages and otherwise renting once I left my parents' home.  I had no real idea of how much of a process it was going to be, that things like closing costs and inspections and other fees were going to turn a purchase into an event, let alone the shopping process itself.  It was a months-long preparation and planning to make a significant change in our lives.  Even after all the paperwork was finalized, we have to then assess what kinds of projects we wanted to address in the house, arrange movers, decide on and purchase paint, and that's nothing to say all of the surprises that eventually come to light as we start to understand what changes others have made before us and how that can complicate a simple project more than expected.  We've been well-supported in this time, with help and encouragement and the occasional bit of heavy lifting.  And it's still an ongoing process, to which even this last week we added a new shelf and were able to buy a new couch for our main seating area, a place I've started internally calling "the conversation pit," just in time for Thanksgiving.

And yet, when we were able to sign the final paperwork and proudly announce our excitement to friends and family, we went to church that weekend and were asked by maybe two or three people about it...compared to the many, many questions about how it felt to be a new aunt/uncle.

I don't begrudge my nephew his birthday nor my brother and sister their joy in welcoming him into the world; we were excited for this, too.  To be blunt, our success in buying a house was what the two of us spent months planning and preparing for, what was going to be a significant change in our lives--the baby was a change in someone else's.  As far as what was directly impacting our lives at the moment, our success didn't feel validated or recognized. 

I am not aiming to chastise or demand any late, additional congratulations:  the point is that there was a lack of attunement in those moments.  There were assumptions made.  They were not immediately in line with what either Andy or myself were feeling.

We take our social cues in different ways:  when a friend tells us that they're pregnant, based on how they say it and their situation, we know to either be conciliatory or congratulatory.  Certain big events are compartively easy:  new house, new job, new baby all suggest some kind of big reaction.  But there are other things that are big to the person that we don't always take into account.  I can remember my older brother talking about the Ancient Cave, a complex marathon of a video game dungeon that he beat.  He was very proud of this accomplishment; collectively, he got a "whatever" response from the family that I'm regretful of, now that I look back on it.  I didn't have to understand it:  it was a big deal to him, and that was important enough to be happy for him.

As another example:  we paid off our student loans.  I don't feel that many people have a full understanding of that actually means.  We are friggin' millennial UNICORNS to have paid them off, let alone only this far out from ending our degrees, particularly when many, many of our peers have given up hope of ever paying them off.  We were met with a reaction of "wow, good for you!" and then the conversation continued on to something else, feeling like the full weight of that accomplishment was less than it was.  Hell, I'm still sorting out what that means regarding our budget and what we're saving for next.  When I'm reconnecting with people I haven't talked to in a while, having bought a house and paid off our student debt are still the top two things I start with and will continue to be for a while yet.  And yet, I feel like it is generally forgotten from the collective conscious.  

I have three points that I want to make explicitly:

1. I don't think that people know how to be happy for Andy and I because we're not complacently riding the managomy escalator and popping out babies, like it's an easy thing.  In the absence of what is "normal," folks maybe just don't know how to celebrate with us, since we're out of the societally expected path.  We've seen this crop up in a few different ways.
2. If we want to know what's important in someone's life, I suggest we ask.  I'm guilty of this, too, of not creating the invitation for someone to share what they're happy about. Suggestions:  "what's real to you right now?" or simply "what are you excited about these days?"
3. Though something might not be a "big" deal on the surface, you can celebrate with someone even if you don't understand it.  This could also mean that more of a response is desired, too--take the student loans, that we received praise but we were frustrated that the weight didn't feel validated.  Not sure if more praise is required?  Ask.  For example:  "How does make you feel?" or "How does that impact your life?" to at least get a gauge by asking some additional questions about the presented accomplishment.  Checking in later is another great way, too, to acknowledge those joys, seemningly small or large.
   

Not everyone is immediately in tune with what their needs are in the moment, but creating that invitation for folks to voice needs can open that door to greater attunement or otherwise create an opportunity for their own introspection.  I've gotten more comfortable with asking people what they need directly and this I feel has helped in extending my awareness and reacting more appropriately.  In other words, my own practice includes recognizing that it's not fair to be mad at someone for not reading my mind.  The feeling of frustration is still valid, but I have choices in how I want to voice that need.