I'm a fixer. In fact, one of my strengths, according to StrengthsQuest, is "Restorative." Part of the description for this strength says, "You enjoy the challenge of analyzing the symptoms, identifying what is wrong, and finding the solution." And not only do I enjoy it, but I thrive in it. It's fun, exciting, and often challenging. Yet, when it comes to people, this "strength" doesn't always feel like one.
Whenever people come to me with a problem, no matter what the size or issue, my first instinct is always to want to fix it. Let me give you advice. Let me tell you what to do or say. Let me take care of it because I know what to do -- even if in reality I don't. I somehow get this idea that I have all the answers, even if I have zero knowledge or experience in the area. I get so caught up in wanting to fix everything, that I forget that I physically and mentally don't have the ability to do so.
I don't always know what the best solution to someone else's problem is -- if there even is one. And if I can't practically give out "Five Steps to Fixing Your Issue," I end up subbing it with something else. And typically, that "something else," ends up being myself. I've found myself in situations where I've ended up placing myself in the middle of someone else's problem to be the solution for them.
Oh, you're angry? Let me make you feel better. You're sad? Let me make you happy. You're scared? Let me comfort you.
As if the actual problem and its root cause don't matter, because I can be what you need. As if the next best option is that I take on the role of being the solution if I can't come up with one for you. As if somehow I am the answer you need, when really the answer lies in something so much deeper than I could ever provide.
It's almost second nature for me to want to feel needed, to want to feel wanted. And giving myself as the solution so perfectly fulfills that innate desire. So instead of offering what I know is the real answer, I offer myself instead. Because if I give you what you really need, then you won't want or need me anymore.
But I can't keep that up forever. Eventually I can no longer provide what I was once able to. Eventually the comfort and happiness I could so easily bring becomes more and more difficult, until it becomes impossible. And what I thought was the "perfect solution," was really a time bomb in disguise.
A time bomb disguised as self-value and self-worth. Telling me that I mattered more because you needed me. A time bomb disguised by selfishness and pride. Convincing myself that I was giving you what you needed, when in reality I was giving myself what I needed. And when the clock ran out, we both left more hurt than we started.
Because I played God. And by playing God, I played you. I pretended like I could provide answers that I couldn't. Knowing all along who you really needed the answers from, but never showing Him to you. I thought I could take care of it, that I could be everything you needed. Only to find out that all that I could give, left us both empty and dry.
I know the Well that never runs out and never runs dry, though. The one that will overflow both of our cups until the end of time. The Well that always provides, no matter how many times we try to live without it. The Well that never holds a grudge and never stops flowing just because we don't acknowledge it. I know that Well, and although I didn't lead you to it at first, I want you to know it, too.
