Revertigo

I love the show 'How I Met Your Mother'. As far as I know, they coined the term 'revertigo' and so I must give them credit. If it is patented by another organization, they may have credit instead. Either way, I did not invent it. I wish I had; it's an awesome word.

Revertigo: upon encountering a person from one's past, one begins to act in the manner he or she did when he or she used to spend time with that person. You all know what this is. You all suffer from it at least a teeny, eentsy, little bit. Think hard ~ do you always play the same role at family gatherings even though 'peacemaker' isn't your style anymore? Do you let your big brother boss you around and take his advice even though you outweigh him, are taller than him, and have six more college degrees than him? Are you still a little intimidated by the cheerleading captain and the quarterback? You're guilty, my friend.

As am I.

I experienced a bad case a while back. I like to believe I am a confident, pulled-together, intelligent person. I am a physician. I love fashion. I can juggle multiple tasks at once with ease.

Yet I found myself arguing and giving in to another person's choices for my clothes. My choices were more flattering, more current, and a heck of a lot cuter in my opinion. This person always dictated what I wore though. I snuck my clothes in my purse and changed at a gas station like a guilty teenager trying to sneak a short skirt past her parents.

My opinion was asked on a medical matter and promptly discredited by another person who has no medical training. "I know better than her. " I desperately wanted to pull out the fancy diploma to disagree, but found myself biting my tongue. What harm was it really doing?

I was teased about losing things (which I do), about my driving (which is acceptable), and about how I needed constant reminders to keep up with two tasks (which I don't). I took all the teasing in stride and bit my tongue. There is a sizable dent in my tongue. I did it because I care deeply about the people who were causing my revertigo. It doesn't make me terribly happy, but it's their way of showing they care for me too. That easily makes up for any temporary angst I might have.

One of those people called me later to let me know their doctor had the same advice I did about the medical problem. The person thought that was funny. I didn't mind this time. After all, they're the one who had poison ivy.