Maybe, Am I Doin' Too Much?

*yes, for the record, that title is a play on the Paula DeAnda song of the same name...*

Real talk: Sometimes The BrotherMan wonders if he's doing too much... not (just?) with the Nigerian Unicorn, but with people in general.

A friend of mine once told me, "We need more people around like you"; I asked her why, and she simply said, "Because you care." In recent weeks, I've had to ask myself if maybe I care too much.

Let me explain. I've recently signed on to become a Co-Chair of a student organization (I know, I know); I came to the decision to do so primarily because I wanted to limit the [Greek letter] organizational lockdown that the organization had kept on its executive board every since my freshman year, and also because I wanted to bring a fresh new look to that particular organization. But we're having meetings over summer, and it's not that they're piling up, but it's definitely taxing. Add that to the fact that I'm trying to involve myself with our upcoming New Student Lock-In (as this might be my first opportunity EVER to go as an upperclassmen and directly work with our freshmen), and also hold down a summer job, and you can almost certainly notice that mine is a busy schedule.

Now, I've held down multiple organizational positions before, I've performed not so much excellently as decently under pressure usually... but I guess what makes this recent year so much harder than others, is the fact that I've tried to give a lot of myself to individuals too. There are some people I don't mind going out of my way for. My family, my closest friends, my roommate, my mentees, the Nigerian Unicorn, the people I care about... I absolutely would do what I can within my means to give nearly anything to them. But as of recent times, I've had to challenge and question where my motives and motivations lie with regards to giving myself to people who stand outside of the aforementioned categories.

For example, I think about the UT Black Community at large. I think one thing I was always motivated by, in the past anyway, was a sense of entitlement. Not like I actually "owned sh*t," but I at least felt like I did, like I had some purpose, and that was enough. So when it came down to events going on, especially Black community events, I felt I needed to be there. I felt I needed to be around. At times, I got affirmation in the sense that, when I wasn't around or wasn't able to make it to a particular place or event, people asked me outright, "We didn't see you at (event name here). Where were you/what happened?" The problem, perhaps, is that now I'm starting to question my relevancy; and if I don't feel relevant to a group of people or an individual's solution to a problem, then why add myself into the particular equation?

I've been tired, drained recently. And it's so funny, because freshman and sophomore year, I swear I could do all that I'm doing now and still be laughing it up and be energetic. But I'm not a freshman or a sophomore anymore. 22 feels ancient. And in a sense, my motivations for what I do have somewhat changed too. I realized that I thrive on a need to feel important, wanted, or really, just popular. I need that affirmation. Popularity, I felt, dictated that I keep in touch with certain people, try to talk to certain people for a certain amount of gain. Therein lied the problem, however: I was only talking to or engaging these people because of what I wanted to get from them. I became disgusted in myself for perpetuating the problem. This was the reason I decried certain practices of Greek lettered or student governing body organizations: because they required or 'encouraged' new membership to 'know the right people' and say the right things just to get a particular award or trophy.

Upon realization of this fact, I adopted a policy of, "I don't care if they care, I just want them to know I care." So I started trying to engage people, started trying to be available, started trying (sometimes failing) to be timely and around when I felt my presence could be at least reassuring if not comforting. But then I started to realize how taxing and tiring it became, especially when I never got that affirmation. Like just once, a few times, I would have really appreciated someone returning the favor or putting at least half the energy towards me as I put towards them. I guess I started to realize that when you seek out affirmation in others, you're very rarely going to get it... yet that hasn't seemed to stop me from seeking it, unfortunately in select groups of people. Though I certainly appreciate the feeling I get when I help other people, that sense of confidence and self-assurance, the warmth I feel when someone smiles or hugs me tightly because of something I've done for or said to them... I am wondering how much I can continue to do this, and keep going without that affirmation. And while I realize, know in the back of my mind that the only REAL person whose affirmation I should be seeking is God's, it's hard to do what you feel called to do when there aren't people around you affirming what you do, too.

When people have a problem (and said problem is usually addiction to something), they are often referred to a "12 Step Program." The first step is admitting you have a problem. So I'm on Step One right now: I admit that am addicted to helping others. I am addicted to wanting to be available, to wanting to be needed, to wanting to be wanted by others. I admit that I am finally at a point where I am asking myself, "Can I keep doing this?" Not because I don't like the work, not because I don't want to be around; but because it seems no one is meeting me halfway, and that causes me to ask if the work I am doing is being done in vain. I admit that I am starting to no longer see a point in giving 100% of myself, to people who only give me 10% of themselves. I admit that this hurts me more than anything else has ever before. I admit that I have a problem.