I love buying something new... for others. I haven’t learned to spend on myself somehow. I know this is bad. Somehow I decided to improve. My husband gave me money for the holiday, and told me to spend everything on myself without fail. So I did. I collected things: a pair of blouses, a skirt, trousers and did not forget about the children. I bought fruit, sweets, and went home happy.
I hadn’t even had time to take off my shoes, but just closed the door and put the bags on the floor, when my child had already pounced on the bags, began to mercilessly take out everything from there, try on, tear the wrappers, eat sweets. I was shocked by everything that was happening.
And I always thought, why am I so annoyed by such impetuosity of my child? And then it dawned on me that this was an elementary greeting from the distant post-Soviet past. New things were then a huge rarity for me, and gastronomic delights appeared at home on big holidays. Therefore, every time I buy myself new clothes or something special on the table, I want to stretch the pleasure, prolong this moment of acquaintance with something new and unusual. I want to enjoy the joy of possession.
I remember how, as a child, less tasty caramels were first eaten from a New Year's bag of sweets, and the turn of the most delicious and refined ones was the last. Do you remember how our mothers kept boxes with some very tasty and expensive sweets for a holiday in the closet for several months, and kept mayonnaise, and peas, and other goodies? Now, when a person does this, he is considered a greedy, bunny, etc.
We were not taught to be happy, and, of course, it is not the parents' fault. In those days there was a shortage of everything, there was no opportunity to purchase what is now in stores at every step. Times have changed, but we have remained the same. We still hide caviar for the holidays, buy clothes for the future, store expensive tea sets for a special occasion. We don't live now, we don't enjoy ourselves, we are afraid to be happy.
I remember when the school was over, we all entered institutes, technical schools. And so many children from our class, children of the military, were told to enter a military school. And we had a boy who acted on stage all his school years, was Santa Claus at matinees, reincarnated as singers and actors at other holidays. The boy is a talent. And then he graduated from school, and he was thrust into a military school. And he almost cries, because he always dreamed of becoming an actor. We saw him not so long ago at a meeting of graduates, he became a brave officer, he has a big friendly family, and he he complained to me that he never found happiness in life, because he could not realize his dreams, his aspirations.
Another classmate of mine fell in love in the last grade and began dating a guy. Love is huge, pure, real, like in a movie. The girl herself was from an intelligent family, the boy was from an orphanage, of course, her dad was against their union. But late, she got pregnant. Her father immediately refused her, said that she had disgraced him, and that she had to study where he prepared a place for her, and she was ungrateful.
That couple, by the way, everything turned out very well. They were able to get out of poverty, now they are engaged in business, they have three children. So they were able to go against their misfortune, and found harmony, the joy of life. Only the girl, who is now an adult gorgeous woman, cannot make peace with her father. And she reproaches herself that she could not simultaneously please her father and become happy. She had to choose ...
I remember that in my childhood we had a library with classics at home, many records with "high-quality" music. We were told that all this is important, but for many of us, it really grew into something over and above important? Our parents listened, read, watched, and everyone tried to find the meaning of life. And they lived like everyone else, denied themselves in many ways, lost a lot, and never really became happy. Or maybe the point was to become happy?
What are we? And they didn't teach us to be happy either ...
The original article is posted here: https://kabluk.me/psihologija/a-schastlivymi-nas-byt-ne-nauchili.html
