Translating Schadenfreude

I live in an apartment above my grandparents. I am a good granddaughter. I love G&G very much, and am here in large part because I want to spend what little time we may have left together close to them. I try to make them happy mostly with my company, even when I'm busy, tired, etc. Honestly, the thing I do the most for my grandparents is spend time with them--just visiting and listening to old stories and letting them talk. This is the arrangement they seem most comfortable with. While they will accept help from the caregivers and from others, they don't easily accept it from me. Time I can give without being rejected. One meal a week they'll let me do. One morning a week to be with Grandpa while the caregivers and Grandma Junie run errands is fine. Beyond that, not so much. I think my grandma would let me buy her an endless supply of caffeine free Diet-Pepsi, but that's about it.

So when I received an email from my cousin (the lawyer of the family, three years my senior and the first born grandchild), I was surprised. She confronted me about making noise at night, and said they would like to make it a policy that there is "quiet time" after 11:30 or midnight". As a quiet girl who likes to read, write and sleep mostly while I'm at home, I was surprised to learn I am viewed as a loud tenant and a night-owl. Hah!

There were other things in the email, but the tone and tenor of the request was one of parent-child. I felt like a little kid or rebellious teenager being scolded for listening to NIN late at night and keeping the folks up. Had the caregivers just talked to me about this directly, like the adults that we are, it would be fine. Hardwood floors mean that noise travels. My bedroom is directly above his. I get it. The thing I don't get is why we couldn't have a normal conversation with the people directly involved.

I am blessed and grateful to be living above my grandparents, but coming back from living first in Taiwan, a world away, and before that out in Portland, Maine, I have to admit that consciously coming back into these family dynamics is difficult for me. I tend to want to draw back and it's a challenge to assert my personal boundaries (and have them respected) and establish my own life and what feels okay for me while living in such close proximity to everyone. This has always been my biggest challenge in life--having the courage and strength to simply be myself--to shine--to be my own person and stand up for what I believe in in spite of what my family may think of me. I get so bogged down in their labels, too often believing that I am what they say I am--irresponsible, bad with money, loud, selfish, undisciplined, greedy, overweight, flakey, etc. that I start to believe it. In fact, when the negative self-talk starts in my head (and it often does), it is these things I've heard or felt through behaviors from my family for years. Now I know they love me, but they just don't want me to shine too brightly. They don't want me to change. They want to feel safe, knowing exactly who I am and what I can do.

I remember being floored when my sister lost 80 pounds and trained for three marathons, all while having type 1 diabetes. The family was less than supportive. No one really commented. No one felt overjoyed for her. Even I felt jealous and threatened. When one changes, all are forced to interact differently. Family units don't like that. It was very eye opening to see my own reaction to my sister's transformation because it wasn't just about the weight loss or athleticism--it was her whole life. She was more confident. Started dating better guys. Started living her dreams. And there I was. Teaching in an inner-city school. Overweight. Depressed. Dating a guy I knew I didn't want to be with but was too lazy and insecure to change things. Not exercising. Rising A1C. The last thing I wanted to do was feel happy for my sister. So I didn't. And in denying that joy for her, I hurt myself, too.

I notice now that despite all the struggles and challenges I'm facing, I feel better about myself and I'm much more able and willing to feel good for other people. I'm glad when they succeed. I'm genuinely happy for them when they get what they want and deserve. I don't feel jealous too often these days, though that still creeps in, I'll admit, mostly around body image and finances. It's a good place to be--to be able to genuinely cheer others on and not feel like by celebrating their successes I am somehow diminishing my own sense of self. That's ego getting out of the way for a little bit and letting my own true essence shine. I am a happy, joyful person who loves to see success in all forms. I love to see people thrive. It's only when I'm down in the doldrums and not doing what makes me feel good that I tend to withhold my happiness for others.

Schadenfreude--I know it comes from that place of unrest within oneself where the ego feels pumped up by others shortcomings or failures. As a bilingual English/German speaker, I love those German words with no real equivalent in English because they seem so on the mark. Schadenfreude, Gemuetlichkeit, these are two well known words that have no real translation. I suppose the opposite of Schadenfreude is simply being happy for another's happiness. It sounds easy to do, but we all have days when it doesn't come so naturally. That's always a sign for me to look within and see what I can do to make myself feel good because there's nothing worse than gloating over other's misfortunes and being unable to celebrate their joys. I can think of no worse fate than that.