He Called Me a Crab (and more)

Eye-Opening Moments are real-life stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. In this episode you will hear about He Called Me a Crab & From Pain to Purpose.

Website: https://inspiremereads.com
Books: https://amazon.com/author/emily-kay-tan.2021_

Chapters

• 0:21 Introduction
• 1:01 He Called Me a Crab
• 15:28 From Pain to Purpose
• 21:54 Key Takeaways

Transcript

Hello and welcome to episode #171 of Eye-Opening Moments where you’ll hear stories of adversity, encounters, and perspectives intertwined. They are moments that can lift your spirits, give you some food for thought, or move you. For the introspective mind that likes to reflect, discover, and find solutions or meaning in a complex life, this is for you. I’m your host Emily Kay Tan.  In this episode, you will hear about He Called Me a Crab & From Pain to Purpose.

He Called Me A Crab
Sitting in the car packed with some of my team members in my business, we were on the way to dinner. Feeling cozy with the heater and our coats on, we squished together in the car. Cousin Eason drove the car while I sat next to him. Ethan, Sonny, and Josh squeezed into the back seat. The guys in the back seat were joking and laughing. The spirit in the car was fun and light. Ethan, the lead joker, teased his cousin Eason for being short because Ethan was younger and taller than Eason. Everybody was laughing, but I gently lectured Ethan to ease up on the teasing. Before I knew it, Ethan called me a crab. What does that mean? Was he teasing me now? I was nearly fifteen years older than him, and I was his trainer. Did he dare poke fun at me?! I didn't know, but I chuckled as we were all happy to be together. Still, I was genuinely puzzled. Why did he call me a crab? What does that mean? Was it a compliment or a criticism?

Before learning what Ethan meant, I needed to acquaint myself with him. He is an interesting character who, surprisingly, has a few traits similar to me. We probably would have never gotten together had he not been connected to my Cousin Eason. I call Ethan my distant cousin because he is my Cousin Eason's cousin, but Ethan and I are unrelated. The three of us were like family when they joined me in my network marketing business.

Boom, boom, boom, Here comes one-year-old Ethan pounding his little feet on the wooden floors of Grandma's house. Watch out, be careful. When Ethan came to my grandmother's house, you would know when he arrived. Grandma Sandy would holler, "Emily, hurry up! Follow Ethan. Make sure he doesn't knock anything over or break anything." Out I came from the bedroom to follow the booming footsteps. Little Ethan was a quick runner! It was a workout running after him! 

A few years later, I was off to college and never saw Ethan again until he was eighteen. I distinctly remembered Ethan was eighteen because I asked myself, is he really eighteen? He seemed much more mature. Ethan was tall with broad shoulders; his towering height made him scary-looking. Couple that with a quiet demeanor; he seemed scarier because you didn't know what he could do. I immediately noticed Ethan because he was quiet and scary. I chuckled inside because he was like me, and there weren't many people like us, odd beings.

The more I got to know Ethan, the more I realized how intelligent he was. I told Cousin Eason, who wholly agreed. When I trained Ethan in the business, I discovered he was a speedy learner. He picked up ideas quickly, understood, and read between the lines without me explaining anything deeper or further. His common sense and keen sense of observation amazed me. When I learned the meaning of being characterized as a crab, I confirmed that Ethan was more observant and intelligent than I knew.

When I first asked Ethan what he meant by calling me a crab, he laughed without answering me. I demanded to know. I wanted to know how he was trying to tease or insult me. I was not going to tolerate it or be bullied like Cousin Eason, who was helpless when teased about his height. It was light teasing and fun, but I took it seriously. I did not want anyone mistreating anyone on my team. 

After arriving at a restaurant for dinner, Ethan explained. "A crab is hard on the outside and soft on the inside," he said. He informed Josh and Sonny that though I appeared tough and serious in training, I was soft and kind-hearted on the inside. His explanation helped those who didn't know me well to feel unafraid of me. Like Ethan, people who don't know me are scared of me. Once they know me, they stop being afraid. Eighteen-year-old Ethan helped me make new team members feel at ease with me. His short explanation of the meaning of being called a crab was spot on. How did an eighteen-year-old see through me so quickly?!

It has been over twenty-five years since Ethan, and only Ethan, called me a crab, but his comment stuck in my memory and gave me food for thought. Why am I hard on the outside? I must protect myself, arm myself, and be ready to attack. You may not attack me physically, but you will attack me in other ways, so the best weapon to have is one that I carry around with me around the clock. My stare and facial expression will keep you at arm's length, if not further away from me. It would be best if you kept your distance because I don't like to get hurt. I have been hurt millions of times already. If you knew that, you would understand why I have a hard shell. Now, I can see myself like a turtle. Try knocking or biting on my shell. You cannot get in or get a bite out of me! Ha! Now, I am proud to be called a crab!

I never thought of myself like a crab until Ethan called me a crab, making me begin to analyze how I was like a crab and why I was like a crab. Maybe I look mean, scary, and tough because of the expression in my eyes. I don't know how I do it or how to describe it; I only know I need to protect myself from harm. Why do I feel the need to protect myself from others? Well, who likes to get hurt?

My boss once told some parents, "Emily doesn't yell at the kids. She uses her eyes to look at them, and then they behave." I thought to myself, how did I do it? I didn't know. Indeed, my look does make my students behave, but I couldn't tell you how I did it. Maybe I inherited that look from my dad because my relatives tell me I look like my father and have facial expressions like him. Some say it is my secret talent, but I recently discovered the secret that I hid from myself!

It only took a few minutes to uncover the lifelong secret hidden from me when I read a short children's story that explained why the lion was the jungle king. In short, the lion is the king of the jungle because of his look; his demeanor says, you could be my lunch, so all the animals run away. I got the connection to me. I translated it to me. I am the queen of the kids' world because I look at them, and my inside voice says you better work to excel and behave, or I will implement consequences. And they comply. I also connected the lion to me when dealing with adults. My demeanor says, "Don't mess with me; don't step on my toes because I will fight back. And if you don't get that or try to test me, I will show you!" They comply, too! 

I feel the power of being the queen of my jungle. But I also feel sad because I focused so much on protecting myself and arming myself with my own weapon that I neglected to realize I distanced others from me. I beg to ask why I do what I do. Too often, when explaining to myself why I behave the way I do, the answer seems to all go back to the same reason. Why I have a hard exterior like a crab is no different. The answer is annoying! 

Mom sent me to live with my grandparents when I was five because she was overwhelmed with being a mother of three as a teenager. She later had three more kids, even though she couldn't handle the first three. I can only explain her actions by saying there were no contraceptives in her time. At any rate, her actions in dealing with me left me feeling like I needed to fend for myself because I knew I didn't have a mother to take care of me. The way I dealt with it was to do everything I could to be self-sufficient. At seventeen, I was emancipated and financially independent. I can explain the reason behind my hard exterior, but Ethan, an eighteen-year-old, exposed my "crabness" if there was such a word.

How can you explain the soft interior of me to be like a crab? Perhaps Ethan saw or enjoyed my kindness toward team members. I delighted in training and helping them achieve some success in the business. The camaraderie gave me warmth and satisfaction like none other. I smile, remembering our times together. The struggles and triumphs together were priceless.

I am nice, but you or I would not use that word as one of the first words to describe me. Maybe Ethan saw something about me that was hidden from me again. I have a heart for others, but it is selective. I am not kind to everyone. However, I am exceptionally kind to those who are dear to me or that I like. Who isn't?

I don't consider myself one of the nicest people you will ever meet, but many have appreciated my kindness. Where does my soft heart, if I have one, come from? Digging deep, I could have an explanation.

Little Emily was tossed to fend for herself when she was five. She did many things to be responsible for caring for herself so her grandmother didn't need to worry about her. Emily learned to cook and clean by being her grandmother's little assistant. She was a good girl but a troubled one because she felt unwanted and unloved by her parents, who did not raise her. I felt sorry for her; no one felt sorry for her; everyone only expected her to act like an adult. I feel sorry for the little Emily that I was and wished for some comfort.

I grew up to give a little of what I didn't get as a child. When I see a child in pain, I want to help because it reminds me of myself as a child. I am frequently reminded because I work with kids, so the image of little Emily is never far from me. What about kindness toward adults? The rebellious little Emily likes to say, "No one helps me, so why should I help anyone?" Too often, I lacked compassion for others. How could Ethan think I was soft or kind? 

As I grew more and more mature, my thinking shifted. As I had incredible people in my life who have helped me in dire straits, I have received much kindness. Enjoying the generosity and kindness of others has softened my rebellious stance. But only a trip to Bhutan broke my hard shell to reveal the softness of the inside of me. Indeed, I have a soft side to me because of little Emily. However, what would significantly help me to reach out and be kind to others and show compassion freely didn't come until I went to Bhutan. 

Bhutan showed me the meaning of kindness and compassion through its people. I grasped it by observing the Bhutanese and by being on the receiving end of their kindness and compassion. It was not anything they did in particular. Still, I was sure that I felt calm and peaceful like never before as they demanded nothing of me and only appreciated and respected me as a human being. Every gesture or action was an example. Genuine smiles from the high schoolers I worked with tickled my heart. Offers of help with anything made me feel at ease. They softened this hard shell of mine and warmed my torn and tattered heart.

Learning by their example, I began observing those around me and looked to see who might need help, a comforting word, or a listening ear. Luckily, my job gives me many opportunities to practice my "softness" as a crab, even though my hard shell exterior continues to protect me. 

I thought Ethan was teasing or ridiculing me by calling me a crab, but he only used something like a metaphor to describe me. His few words gave me pause for a self-examination of my character. Never underestimate what others can see about you because we have blind spots. Never jump to conclusions about others because there is always more than one side to a person.

From Pain to Purpose
It all began when I quit my career after twenty-six years. I was tired of it. I loved it for over twenty years, but now I don’t care for it anymore. I am often not a quitter, but quitting this time wasn’t hard. The hard part was only worrying about having an income. Still, I stopped working in search of what to do next or what to do with my life. With much time on my hands, I enjoyed hobbies I didn’t have the time to do before. I began writing merely to express the voice from within. Little did I know it would become my passion that gave me meaning in a painful life I thought had no good. 

From pain to purpose, I alleviated my pain to find meaning in this life through writing. The writing process created eye-opening moments of discovery that could give some food for thought or inspire greatness.

I have written details of each story (elsewhere), but in a nutshell, they could also be shared in two sentences.

From being silenced as a child, I found my voice as a teacher, presenter, podcaster, and writer.

My secret savior of writing gave me a place to express my voice and provide me with the needed comfort.

From the pain of being abandoned at five, I developed independent skills to care for myself.

Though forced to grow up sooner rather than later, I learned problem-solving and survival skills.

From losing my way in my career, I found a new passion.

Though I loved my career before, the desire to depart led to my discovery of a love for writing.

From my failure in business, I discovered many lessons and strengthened my character. 

Though it was a struggle, jumping out of my comfort zone led to much growth and adventures.

From a broken heart, I found the impermanence of life to treasure each moment.

Though my heart was shattered, I mustered the strength to put the pieces back together.

From broken trust, I discovered that trust is given and not necessarily earned.

Though trust is not always given, I learned to give the gift of trust to others.

From looking at my bare body, I learned to get comfortable under my skin.

Though I didn’t always have a positive self-image, I learned to acknowledge and accept myself.

From feeling that things were impossible, I saw “I am possible” in the word impossible.

Though difficult times abound, seeing things through different lenses made all the difference.

From not seeing my blind spots, I saw myself in the mirror through others.

Though looking at ourselves is not always easy, seeing ourselves through others is eye-popping.

From neglect, I select to be self-sufficient.

Though abandoned as a child, I refused to act as a victim.

From a worry bug about the future, I shifted into a carefree bird in the present.

Though many things may concern me, I learned that the present grounds us to appreciate what is before us.

From perfectionism, I found creativity.

Though doing my best has always been an aim, writing taught me that perfectionism could stifle creativity.

From fear, I jumped out of it to find courage.

Though fear often stopped and suppressed me, skydiving taught me that many fears are self-created.

From a travel education, I broadened my perspectives.

Though we learn much from school, we also learn a lot from experiences outside the classroom.

From losing everything, I found that I always had the most important things with me.

Though I downsized and had little when I moved abroad, I discovered that the most important were not my material things.

From failure in business,  I discovered valuable accomplishments in character.

Though I wanted financial success, who I am is more important than what I have in possessions.

From book smarts to street smarts, I discovered adaptability smarts are also vital.

Though education and experience are essential, adaptability is also crucial.

From Bhutan, I found peace and happiness.

Though Bhutan is a land of happiness, finding peace and joy comes from within.

From Grandma’s deathbed, I found I matter.

Though death could hit at any time, self-worth to feel good about oneself is too important.

From taking risks, I jumped out of my comfort zone to discover and experience amazing things.

Though risk-taking can be scary, the chances for incredible results are possible.

From self-abuse and emotional abuse, I learned to stand up for myself.

Though toleration could be a quality, self-respect is also important.

From adversity, I found meaning in a life I thought was too miserable.

Though l have faced many challenges, I can welcome them to continue to grow and improve.

From pain to purpose, I found many blessings in disguise.

Though challenges are unavoidable, lessons learned and eye-opening moments can soothe the soul.

Key Takeaways
Though he called me a crab, and I thought it was something bad, it was something good and complimentary.

Though I endured much pain, I found blessings in disguise.

Next week, you will hear two real-life stories called Severed Sisterly Love & Target Practice. If you enjoyed this episode of Eye-Opening Moments, please text someone and ask them what they think about this podcast, or go to www.inspiremereads.com and leave a message. Thank you for listening!