EGO – Deana O'Hara – Speaker, Comedian, Writer

I do not take vacations without my family and grown men do not ask me for my phone number.

Well, except for that one time and that was a fluke. I swear.

The airport staff at DFW forgot about me and left me sitting at the terminal in a wheelchair with a broken ankle. Not that I knew yet that it was broken, but still. I am certain that if a stranger had not taken pity on me, I’d still be waiting at gate 32 C.

All I want at this point is to find my seat, order an adult beverage and pretend I am still on my cruise with my girlfriends.

The window seat is open, I take it and the cabin steward takes my crutches.

So what if I’m supposed to be in the middle, I want the window. Surely whomever has the window seat will see my plight, take pity on me and not make me move.

Turns out he too is tired, wants to find his seat, and order his own adult beverage and we recognize each other immediately.

I, the stubborn redhead sitting in his seat and he, the tall stranger standing in the aisle announcing confidently, “I know you are going to move over, right?”

He is right. I move. Broken ankle and all. Granted not without a sassy “Oh sure, make the cripple move.” We like each other instantly right up until 22C arrives.

He spends most of the flight talking to her. Over me I might add leaving me to feel like odd woman out. Yes that bugged me. Don’t judge. I was tired, and feeling well… middle aged.

I don’t blame him. She is young, cute, probably single and in town for a short business trip. Watching him work is very entertaining to say the least.

I’ll be honest, it takes everything I have not to pop off with a “Shoulda let me keep the window seat.” but my drink arrives and I have bigger things to figure out like explaining my broken ankle to my husband.

As we get ready to make our descent to Tulsa, Mr. window-seat remembers that I am in the row and says to me, “So let me guess, you’re a housewife.”

OUCH!

He strikes out with 22C and that’s the best he’s got for me?

I know, I know. I’m married. I shouldn’t care but crimony the dude could at least TRY!

Housewife.

pffffft.

I already know – because it’s hard not to eaves drop when you are stuck in the middle – that Mr. window-seat’s name is Tim*, he is a physician’s assistant / surgeon who is just returning from taking care of his old sick mother in Atlanta and he had two brother’s who have died leaving her alone with just him to care for her…

blah blah blah gag me.

I mean she got the “I’m a rich doctor who loves his mother.” pickup, and I get “housewife.” like I’m some kind of consolation prize or something.

At 40 something years old, this cuts me to the quick. He’s not exactly a Spring chicken himself mind you. I have zero interest in this man and yet there is no way I’m letting housewife go unchallenged. Even if it is true.

“As a matter of fact, I’m a stand up comic.”

So there Mr Bigshot!

What happens next is a blur.

Within ~~three minutes~~ okay maybe 60 seconds, he is wanting to know where I do comedy in Tulsa and asks for my phone number so that I can let him know when my next gig is.

and…

I give him my number.

He even sends me a text when we land so that he doesn’t lose it. Oh boy. I am so in trouble.

It has been at least 20 years since a man has asked for my phone number. I can’t remember how to make one up. This is going to take some serious “splaining” as Ricky Ricardo would say.

I’ve taken two vacations ever in my entire life with my girlfriends and I come home from the second one with a broken ankle and now some guy I just met on the plane has my phone number.

This should be interesting.

I do quick introductions in luggage. Mr window-seat waits with my wheelchair while my husband gets the car and we never see each other again.

Who says life after kids is boring?

*Name changed to protect his identity, not that I believe he gave me his real name in the first place. I’m not even sure that he’s a surgeon. I did get the text he sent me on the plane asking for my next gig and I sent him the link to the Comedy Parlor where I hope to be performing soon and left it at that. I had surgery shortly after my trip and I’m still in a boot. It’s going to be a long time before I get to do comedy again.

I am also fairly certain that it is going to be a LOOONG time before I get a weekend pass to go on a vacay with my girlfriends again as well.

Written March 13, 2009

I have my days were admitting this is hard, but the truth is, I am my own problem. I am not your problem. Nobody, and I don’t care who you are, is responsible for my self-esteem. I keep telling myself that in spite of the fact, that I do at times try to make others responsible.

Yes, there are times and people who can take chinks out of it, or even add to it with a well timed compliment, but in the end – I stand alone. And so do you.

We all do.

And yet we don’t.

As believers, we stand in Christ. Filled to the measure with His Holy Spirit. He promises to never leave us nor forsake us – but sometimes, I’ll let false shame, push him away.

I’m presently in a place that I never in my wildest dreams imagined I would be. I chose to take a risk, step out on faith, and come to the Professional Communicator’s Summit in Franklin Tennessee taught by Ken Davis and his staff at DCW. I am having a blast. I’m meeting people from all walks of life and from all places in ministry and I am learning things I could have never – ever learned anywhere else.

What blows my mind is how easily I could have talked myself out of coming. How easily – as recent as last night, the voices can start with how I don’t fit in, I’m out of my league, these people will never accept me. I haven’t done anything yet to warrent their approval or acceptance. There is no way I can earn that respect in just a couple of hours. I’m asking stupid questions, they are going to figure out that I’m the banana on the peach tree pretty quickly.

Now I have to tell you, it’s not just things like the Summit that can do that to me. It can be any thing, anywhere. And I have to know that about myself – repent of that kind of egotistical thinking. And yes, low self worth is still self obession and it’s pure EGO – I’m Edging God Out of my life when I get like that. And when I want to be liked, respected, fit in and approved of by people I’ve placed on a higher plane than myself, I’ve made them gods. Idolotry in it’s most basest form.

I did not invest the money I invested in this weekend to hide behind a frail ego, to be coddled and nurtured by anyone here, to simply hide in my room and feel sorry for myself for having a badly focused mirror. I am investing in the future that only God knows.

I have to let go of the fact that I did indeed have a ministry six years ago called Redemption’s Heart – it was growing and active. It had a focus and some direction and I threw it all away over hurt feelings, and anger. My being here, to learn how to improve is my active repentance. Carrying false shame over that – is not. God has not only forgiven me for that, He has opened new doors, new possibilities and new avenues for me to learn that I never had before.

I’ve made some really cool friends this weekend. I’ve learned amazing things from excellent professionals that I could not have learned, would not have learned otherwise. This summit has been 100% top quality professional work all the way. There were speakers and professionals that told me things I could not have known otherwise. Talk about your inside track, my gosh.

And to get the most out of it, I cannot just sit back and expect to be fed or taught or whatever. I cannot just sit there and think I don’t belong here and isolate myself. If I had continued to flow with my feelings when I first got here, I would have fulfilled that false belief. I would have been miserable. Instead, I have to act first and let the feelings follow. I have to step out, talk to people, listen to them, find out what they are doing that works, what they are doing that doesn’t work, and trust God with the rest of it. That means to keep talking until the stuttering and fear stops. If I stare at the floor the first time I talk to someone because of fear, so be it. Just be sure to speak to them a second time and not stare at the floor.

To get the most of out this and anything else, we all have to actively choose to be a willing, breathing, moving, and interested person in living life. And truly truly believing that God is a God of second chances, He will not bail on me if I do not get it right the first time and he won’t bail on you either.

That is a promise you can sleep on.