The Mole That Didn’t Like Mustard

As I’ve written before, I have a rather gigantic imagination. It’s certainly come in handy throughout my life though, getting me out of jams and helping to explain certain things about me. When I was little, I had a mole on the top part of my chest, and don’t you know that mole was the exact reason I didn’t like mustard?

True story. I didn’t like mustard and that mole was the reason why. I’m not sure when or why that mole decided that I wasn’t going to like mustard, but I was faithful to its decision because when a mole makes a statement, well you really should listen to it.

For years I refused to eat mustard and if it did somehow slip unknowingly into my sandwich, then I had a very valid reason to refuse to eat any more of it. My mole said I don’t like mustard; therefore, it was unreasonable to expect me to continue to eat this sandwich. It really was quite simple.

When I was in my late teens, my doctor recommended that I get that mole removed. He had no idea that it controlled my ability to eat mustard, he just didn’t really like the look of it, and with my fair skin and family history of cancer, he wanted it gone.

An amazing thing happened. Once the mole was removed, I discovered that I actually DID like mustard. Crazy eh? All those years I’d spent listening to that mole and here that mole didn’t know what it was talking about it!

Once that little controlling voice inside of me was silenced – in my case removed all together, I was free to make a decision about mustard on my own. My little mind had convinced myself of something that wasn’t true, and rather than try and stand up for myself, I hid behind my mole and let it do all the talking and deciding for me. It was a way out, someone or something else to blame.

Now I realize I’ve given way too much credit to a little mole on my chest for having any sort of a role in shaping my childhood. I did at around age ten or so, understand that my mole had nothing to do with mustard but by then I had played the game so long that it was just easier to keep it up, then to change my stance.

I took the easy way out. Instead of just trying mustard, I took the easy way out, and I’m angry at myself for doing that because as I’ve said, it turns out I really like mustard and I’ve missed out on a lot over the years.

Why do we do that? Why do we take the easy road instead of challenging ourselves or admitting that maybe our initial thoughts or decisions were wrong? Is it because we’re embarrassed? Is it because we feel we have to protect our pride? It is all about fear of failure? Why do we so often blame others for our mistakes or our misgivings?

My good friend Andrea likes to use the term “own your shit” when talking about stuff like this. Own your shit. Own up to your mistakes and own up to the role you played in whatever went down or whatever isn’t going right in your life. Other people can be the catalyst for change in your life – both in a positive and a negative sense – but at some point, we all have to examine what growth we’re missing out on right now because we’re still blaming others.

I’m guilty of this too. We all are, and it’s so hard to move past that point but it’s so important that we do, that we at least begin to make the effort to move ourselves forward. Sometimes shit just happens. It does, and there’s nothing we can do or say that will change it. And it sucks. And it hurts. It hurts so deep in our soul that we just want someone or something else to share some of that pain, so we don’t have to carry the entire burden ourselves. Sometimes life is hard, and it would be so much easier to just run away and not face any of it. We could just put all of it on the mole. But we can’t. We have to face it. That’s what makes us strong and that’s what build resilience. A mole maybe be aesthetically pleasing to some, but it really doesn’t have much substance or purpose, it becomes what our imaginations want it to be to serve the purpose it needs to serve.

There have been many times I wish I still had my mole, not because I want to go back to disliking mustard, because then I could blame it when I am sad and missing my Mom and Dad. I could trick myself into believing that “I’m” fine, it’s the mole that still has trouble dealing with the losses. It’s the mole that doesn’t allow me to really look at their pictures and only just glance because it’s just still too hard and the pain is too raw.

Next week is the second anniversary of my Dad’s death and I would give anything to have my mole back for a little while. But it’s gone and it’s never coming back. So, it’s up to me to chose how I’m going to deal with my sadness and my emotions. And I will. If I’m feeling sad, I’m not going to pretend to feel happy. I’m just going to let the week unfold as it may and deal with it moment by moment. I’m going to “own my shit” and the messiness that goes with it – good or bad.

As much as I’m trying to “own my shit” these days, I do miss my mole. I miss the wonderful times we shared, and the wonderful tales I spun trying to get out of having to eat mustard as a child. But it isn’t all a loss. I still have a mole on my back that is responsible for when I’m bratty and a beach towel named Melissa that gets me in a LOT of trouble when I go away on vacation with my girlfriends. Andrea only said I have to “own MY shit”, she’s never said anything about theirs. Baby steps my friends, baby steps…