My mother had a saying I heard a lot as a child whenever we were out and about. It was “make along.” As in, whatever you’re feeling right now, this is not the place. Smile. Be pleasant. Don’t cry in public. Don’t air grievances. Don’t make it weird by having a visible reaction to anything. What would people think?
I was never very good at making along. I really did try, but I wear my heart on my sleeve and have done so since birth. Mom is great at it. My dad is the master. My sister does a pretty good job too.
What I didn’t understand until I was an adult was that making along isn’t about good manners. Manners are consideration for other people. This was something else — it was about protecting a version of yourself that existed only in other people’s perception. Keeping that version intact at all costs, including the cost of being actually honest about your actual life.
Mom still worries out loud about what people will think. I watch her and I can see the whole instruction manual she was working from — one she didn’t write either. Women have been teaching women to be the peacemakers since the beginning of time, passing it from generation to generation like a recipe, nobody stopping to ask if it was actually a good one. And she still doesn’t quite understand why I’m just not wired that way.
There are times I wish I could make along better. Not because I want to diminish myself, but sometimes being me complicates things — especially in professional settings. I’m struggling with this right now at work, and I know Mom wouldn’t have these issues because of how she was raised and how she’s wired. But I hear how frustrated she gets in private, so I don’t think mirroring her behavior would work for me even if I could manage it.
My mother wasn’t wrong that the world doesn’t need your every feeling on display. She just forgot to mention there’s a lot of ground between oversharing and disappearing. And I think we’re both still figuring out where the best middle ground actually is.