Dear Reader,
“In order for connection to happen, we have to allow ourselves to be seen, really seen,” – Brené Brown.
People wish for time machines for many reasons, but mostly “Why did I say that?” or “Why did I do that?”
I’m still learning to embrace the things I’ve said without thinking properly. The truth is though, no one cares about us as much as we assume they do. People have so much to deal with in their lives, only a privileged few have the free space in their minds to wonder, “Why did they do that?” or “Why did they say that?”
We shouldn’t release our minds to the overthinking whisperer – a creature I’m convinced exists – lurking around, shifting from one human to the next for fun.
Breathe. No one cares. Say it ten times in the mirror if you must, no one cares.
The Mirror
I know I shouldn’t have said it, but I did. Now what?
Casually, without effort, words form sentences in our minds that slip out, sometimes exposing our insecurities, secrets or sometimes, they’re just random and far-fetched words that leave the people around us confused, only momentarily, because as I’ve mentioned in the introduction, no one really cares that much.
We might view our speech as unfair betrayals, but as long as they’re innocuous, simply wrapping us up with labels like: weird, quirky, or silly, what’s the worst that could happen?
People make mistakes with their speech, all the time. It might seem like the world will end because of things we’ve said (note: harmless things), as we punish ourselves for days and weeks with imageries of people judging us or deciding to stay away from us.
In my moments of speech regrets, I’ve shuffled from one sibling to the next, explaining the situation, yearning for them to assuage my fears.
But there’s an ironic factor: in bothering my siblings and friends, in painting the words I’ve regretted, I’ve ended up marking myself with the same words I was trying so hard to run away from. That is, I’ve ended up making myself look weird, quirky and silly. A combo. The full package.
What has helped me in recent times is, asking myself, “And so what?”
We can’t control how others view us, but we can control our self-empathy.
So what if people ask you where you come from, and you end up answering the question with additional (unwanted) details about your love for pancakes.
And so what?
The Echo
Video: The power of vulnerability | Brené Brown | TED
“Shame is easily understood as the fear of disconnection. Is there something about me, that if other people know or see it, that I won’t be worthy of connection?”
The quote above encapsulates the idea of beating ourselves up over mistakes. Out of the fear of shoving others away, we build up scenarios that justify our fears, and for what?
The Grounding
Write down a list of weird, quirky, silly things you’ve said in the past, and ask yourself, “And so what?”
Note: If this will trigger more overthinking, please don’t, skip and ignore.
The Lens
Rewriting the moment amplifies the anxiety.
The Shelf
Poem: FORGIVENESS by Maria Popova
Before You Go
Brené Brown found the following qualities in people who embodied good qualities,
Courage – “The courage to be imperfect.”
Compassion – “The compassion to be kind to themselves first, and then to others.”
Connection – “They had connection because of authenticity. They were willing to let go of who they thought they should be.”
Vulnerability – “They fully embraced vulnerability, they believed that what made them vulnerable, made them beautiful.”
You said something strange, silly, plucked from Pluto.
And so what?
Until next week,
Spring4th.