Honesty comes with a price.

Earlier this week a good friend of mine brought up the idea of game changers. The idea that at certain times in our lives, we should make a decision that changes the course of our lives in some way, it can be major or seemingly small but a change none the less. At the time, I took it with a grain of salt but the conversation's been haunting me for the last several days.

The conversation led me to discovering a journal, my first journal (1993). I skimmed the pages and like my other journals, much of the content was about who I was dating or trying to date...adolescence is so crazy. Ultimately, that find led me to re-discovering a Dr. Phil workbook I had purchased during college. It was something about helping to realize how the decisions you've made and the people in your life have helped you get to this point in your life. And of course, how to unravel the mess and clear your plate.

I quickly realized that I had only gotten through two or three of the exercises before jumping ship. But one gem, the first exercise, caught my eye. It was my life history in a story format. In it, I discussed how I always felt like my father was never proud of me. He always wanted more, expected more and was always disappointed. And I had felt like the decisions I made in my life, the person I was trying to become, was solely to make him proud-and earn his unconditional love.

The strange part is that in a list-making journal I wrote in a year or so after that Dr. Phil thing, I had made a list about things I love about my dad. The first was that he's forgiving and loves me regardless of my downfalls.

So which entry was honest? I've been trying to figure that out all day and I've got to admit, I'm pretty perplexed. But I do wonder if I've always used my relationships with boys and men as a cover. A way to avoid having to confront the feelings I had/have for my father. Or as a way to try and find whatever sort of approval and acceptance I was so desperately trying to gain.

Because in all honesty, I feel myself craving and striving for approval and acceptance from my spouse. So the big question here is: as we grow and mature, do we ever fully grow out of who we were as a child?

I'm becoming more and more doubtful.