It was sufficient. Until it wasn’t.

Growing up (something I, apparently, will be doing forever), I had an absolutely ear-catching behavior. A behavior used to attract deeply desired attention from other folks. I was Ms. Sarcasm, incarnate. I was so good! And so funny! But, incredibly cutting.

Those memories leave me squirming in embarrassment. Really, really squirming. I had such a prodigious capacity for witty sarcasm, loving the attention it garnered me. “Wow, I just got off a good one! A zinger!”

Oy, the things we vulnerable humans do to capture the attention of others. Cutting words were a specialty, given that sarcasm was the equivalent of waving a red flag, saying “I’m here, I’m here!” Any embarrassment, or pain, afforded those who were the butt of my barbed (but very funny) comments, was irrelevant. I had my spotlight. That was sufficient. Until it wasn’t.

“Who am I, really?” kept floating up, whispering behind all my highly charged and attention-getting words. That damn question would not go away. Would not go away! It began to dawn on me that my attention-seeking (and very funny) sarcasm was not the “me” I wanted to share with the world.

Could I still attract others’ attention, bereft of my mainstay, sarcasm? (Pretty please?) Sarcasm was my longtime, reliable, foghorn, announcing, “Pay attention to Jan!! Is she ever funny!” A proven path for capturing ears and eyeballs. Sadly, also a proven path for hurting and embarrassing other humans. Thinking back to that stage in my life makes curling into a fetal ball feel inviting.

Finally, my s-l-o-w-l-y coalescing inner values found sufficient courage to rise up toward magnetic north, my real magnetic north. Gotcha baby, gotcha! Bending more, much more, toward the light, not the dark. Thanks, also, to Anonymous, below, for equipping me with a decent life preserver when sarcasm beckons this former user:

“Every word you speak is a seed.”

Damn right.

I got it. Finally! My biting sarcasm was toxic as all get out. This was not the garden I’d intended to plant in my life, or yours, for that matter. Of course, as ye olde imperfect human, I occasionally still hear a stream of sarcasm trickling through my mind, but it usually remains there. Well, mostly….(Haven’t I already staked a claim to the “imperfect human” moniker?)