It was just the eight of us around the dinner table at Zax Restaurant in Austin, TX, when a friend of mine asked me a question.
“Oleg, what makes you unique?”
I have never been asked such question before.
I sat there, in silence, thinking of an answer.
“What makes me unique? What makes me unique?” I repeated it over and over again in my head.
No immediate answer came. I continued to sit with it.
Then, a thought entered my mind.
My eyes widened, a surge of energy passed through my body and I was finally prepared to answer his question.
“What makes me unique is the ability to write poetry, but I haven’t done it in many years,” I answered.
I started to think of the years while living in the Russian orphanage and how on some nights, after we were told to go to bed, I would climb onto the windowsill and with whatever light was available from the outside, I’d write poems. Poems that helped me process the life I was experiencing, poems that would get me through the ever so common traumatic experiences.
I was fortunate for the entire three years I lived in the orphanage, not to get caught by the caregiver on duty.
“Oh boy, would I have been in a whole lot of trouble.”
It was later that night, after dinner, still captivated by my friend’s question, that I wrote my first poem in years.
I had so much self-doubt at first, of whether or not I would be capable of the art of poetry.
But, as it turned out, I picked right back up as if I had been practicing writing poetry all along.
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I recently asked a friend of mine on our podcast, “Did you ever find yourself seeking external validation? If so, what did you hope that person or group of people would tell you?”
As she began to share moments from her life of when she was seeking external validation, I started to think of instances when I found myself seeking approval or permission from others.
It was difficult to pinpoint the origin of when it all started.
One memory after another flashed in front of my eyes.
It was as if I was watching a movie.
The only parts missing were a 60-inch and a bowl of popcorn.
As I tried to go deeper within each memory, hoping that it would lead me to the origin of why I chose to seek validation from others, I noticed that the memories began to repeat themselves, over and over again, starting with 2005, the year that I was adopted from Chebarkul’, Russia by a family from Ann Arbor, MI.
I felt like a newborn after the adoption took place, even though I was 12 years old.
I spoke very few words of English … and only understood a handful of the culture that I was deeply immersed in …
I was desperately looking for a place of comfort or familiarity, a place where I belonged.
For me, seeking approval or permission was one way for me to develop that sense of belonging.
It was a practice I was far too familiar with from the three years of living in the Russian orphanage, a place where we had no choice, or so it appeared that way. I would seek approval or permission from the authorities before making a decision, no matter how big or small it might have been.
But, as the saying goes, “too much of anything can be bad for you.”
My case was not any different.
Although, seeking approval and permission from others might have helped me at the beginning, as the years went by, it took away my self-confidence and self-belief in my own decision-making abilities.
The lack of self-confidence and self-belief made me indecisive, in situations where I felt comfortable making my own decisions before.
Seeking approval or permission from others was becoming the norm, my norm.
It seemed that no matter what the situation was, whether it was intimate relationship I was part of, business endeavor, a friendship … I was seeking the other person’s approval or permission for the decisions I was to make.
It took years; before I was able to reverse engineer what I had created.
In fact, that is the most important message, for me at least, to acknowledge and take ownership that even in situations where I felt like I was being dependent on others, I was still the person that was making the final decision.
Even at the orphanage, where seeking approval and permission was in your best interest, unless you wanted to be punished, I could have disobeyed what I was told and chose differently.
We all have a choice, at all times, even in situations where it may not seem like it.
As I was once told, “The decision not to make a decision is still a decision.”
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Well, this time my environment was certainty winning, as not only was I not always telling the truth, but also my closest friends were not telling the truth.
My actions were influencing them, and their actions were influencing me.
But, “honesty” wasn’t the only value I compromised.
The more I began to look at the relationships at hand; the more I noticed all of the other compromises I was making.
One of those was, “authenticity.”
I was choosing to wear a mask to avoid judgment. I continued to wear that mask to be accepted within my tribe.
As part of this cycle, I was also compromising, “learning.”
“How can you develop a meaningful and deep relationship with another person, if you are not able to fully be there?”
I felt as if I was cheating some of the people by not fully showing up.
I thought, “How could I expect them to be fully honest and transparent, if I wasn’t doing the same?”
Years went by before I was able to change those early habits.
It was during those years; I learned that I always have a choice and there is no choice in life too small to have an impact.
Today, I choose to stay true to my values, as they influence my thoughts, my actions, my beliefs, and the direction my life takes.
I can’t help but wonder, “Are you presently living in accordance with your values?”
