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My life has been getting better lately — and that’s hard for me to accept.

About 12 or 13 years ago, everything seemed to go off the rails. My financial position fell apart as I walked away from a lucrative career in political consulting. I gained a hundred pounds as I ate loads of sugar to “medicate” my depression after a failed romantic relationship. I felt lost and alone and off-course.

In the following years, I worked at jobs I hated. I didn’t make enough money. I was depressed and lonely most of the time. I no longer had heath insurance. Then I had gall bladder surgery and was left with medical bills I couldn’t pay. My credit was destroyed. Every day seemed like a struggle.

But things are slowly getting better. I’m still not living the affluent life which I had 15 years ago, but I’m doing better financially than I was. I have my damaged credit back up to something decent. I’ve shed nearly 50 pounds since the first of the year. And I finally got some resolution to a long-running romantic drama. I didn’t get what I had wanted for so long, but I finally got a decision on the issue — something which allowed me to finally close that door for good. I’ve needed a final resolution on the relationship and I got it.

I was thinking this afternoon about how much better things have gotten for me. Part of me felt relieved. Part of me wanted to pat myself on the back and tell me I’ve done a good job fighting my way out of that hole. But there was still a part of me which growled that I wasn’t perfect — and that I would never be good enough.

And in that moment, I felt the horrible feeling that I was still in trouble with my father. I felt his judgment. I felt his ever-present programming telling me I had to be perfect. And despite all the good things going on for me, I had trouble believing I could ever be “good enough.”

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“I have often thought of you,” said Estella. … “There was a long hard time when I kept far from me the remembrance of what I had thrown away when I was quite ignorant of its worth. But since my duty has not been incompatible with the admission of that remembrance, I have given it a place in my heart.”
— Charles Dickens, “Great Expectations”

About 12 years ago, I almost married a brilliant and beautiful woman. A month before we were to be married, though, I backed out. I broke her heart. And I eventually regretted it.

But by the time I realized I had made a mistake — maybe six months later — it was too late. I told her I had been wrong and begged her to take me back. But I had hurt her and she was already moving on. So she broke my heart.

Over time, each of us regretted throwing away the love we had had from the other. But our timing was off — and our regrets were at different times — so our lives went in very different directions.

I’ve been wondering lately how different our decisions about love would be if we knew what we faced in the future. How often do we carelessly reject love which we later would do anything to have again?

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When I was young, I was taught how to interact with other people in almost every conceivable situation — and I was good at it.

When I got a little older, I started thinking that what we were all doing in this was was somehow dishonest, because none of us cared about the things we asked each other. But I’ve learned that these “ridiculous” interactions — these “social scripts,” as I call them — serve a very important function in human societies.

As I continue to explore producing video content, I’m making almost whatever comes to my mind, regardless of whether it fits with the overall theme that I’ve set. I’ll eventually focus more one a unified theme, but while I’m learning — and trying to get better at it — I’m making whatever lets me get some practice in front of the camera.

Tap of click the video below to hear more about whether it makes sense to force children to learn what we call manners.

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