I’m nervous as I write this sentence. There’s a lot of things I want in this life, but one of the most nagging, annoying, persistent things I want is for you to like me. For you to think I’m cool, and smart, and funny. For you to want to date me, or at the very least…be my friend. I remember when I used to have dance recitals in middle school, I would actually envision what people in the audience saw when I danced and wonder if they liked it…if they were impressed…if they were proud. How’s that for multi-tasking?
This perfectionism and approval-seeking have been two of my closest companions since as long as I can remember. You like soccer? I like soccer. You’re annoyed by the fact that I have anxiety? Well let’s just pretend I’m *chill*. You’re not looking for a serious relationship. Then summer fling is my new middle name. I want to say the right thing, do the right thing, and be the right thing — all so I don’t rock the boat, cause you to have a negative perception of me, and pretty much never have a single uncomfortable feeling in this lifetime. 😂 I can giggle reading that sentence back because I have enough experience to know that’s not possible (and trust me I have tried). But in all seriousness, I have lived so much of my life so afraid to have painful feelings. I thought I was afraid of you not liking me or being mad at me, but what I was really afraid of was how I was going to feel when I sat with myself without your praise or validation to keep me warm. I was deeply dependent on the blanket of other people telling me I’m ok, that I’m not bad, and that I’ve done nothing wrong.
I decided to start this newsletter because on many days, the volume on this fear is way lower than it used to be, and I am so grateful for that. Circa 2010 it was like “omg they haven’t answered your text in 17 minutes, send 3 question marks, replay everything you said yesterday in case you said something offensive, and then text them “heyyyy…not to seem crazy or anything…but are you mad at me?”.
But today…most days…the “are you mad at me?” comes in like the itch of a mosquito bite — sometimes sharp and sometimes muted, and better if not touched. I’ll hear a light panicky voice in my head when a colleague gives me a cold facial expression or someone answers a text with the three most dreaded characters in the english language: ok. "They’re mad at you,” the voice says. It feels true. But from years of therapy and 12 step recovery, I know that I have a brain that works like this:
any gap in reaction or response means something bad is happening.
that something bad is probably me (or something I did, said, thought).
I have to make sure (right now) that that person isn’t upset and that nothing has changed and I am still loveable, worthy and safe. and that i still have friends. and that i won’t be left. and that everything is ok.
I just know how it goes. I’ve been on that roller coaster — sent the ?? texts, sent a funny joke to a friend I haven’t heard from in a while just to gauge the vibe lol, apologized when I’ve done nothing wrong because I think it will make whatever awkwardness I am feeling better, more palatable.
So I don’t send the “are you mad at me?” text. And I (mostly) don’t call my mom to replay my last 7 conversations with this friend to look for the place I went wrong. And I reallllllly (try) not to panic.
Instead I put my hand on my heart, because I realize there’s a little girl in there who feels like her safety - her okayness - her worth…is out there, wrapped in what you think of her and if you like her and if you see her as good. I sit with that little girl who didn’t know how to to self-regulate or self-reassure…who is convinced she’ll just feel better if she can get you to go back to being warm, and close and perfect. I hold her hand and tell her that I see that she is scared and that a cold facial expression or unanswered text can feel like danger to someone who got a lot of mixed messages growing up. I tell her that I love her when she gets scared people are mad at her, but that what’s really hurting her is the belief that love can get taken away…that quickly…just by being human. I practice contrary action - which is acting the way I want to feel, instead of how I currently feel. I currently feel like I am freaking THE EFF out that you’re mad at me and I did something wrong, but how I want to feel is that I am human and imperfect and if I did something to upset you, you’ll tell me directly and I don’t have to guess. And if I felt that way, how would I act? what would I do next? Take the walk. Drink the coffee. Journal. Put my phone on Do Not Disturb. Let you have your experience while I tend to mine. Trust that I am safe even if I am not sure in this exact moment how you feel about me. Shift the focus to how I feel about me. And what I need. And what feels nurturing. Less of you. More of me.
I am writing this newsletter for that little girl. And to share with you how I grow and recover from overthinking, low self-esteem, a mean AF inner critic, codependency and self-abandonment. It’s lonely to worry people are mad at you all the time. It’s even lonelier to feel like you’re only okay if they’re ok, and if they’re ok with you.
I’ve been there and am sometimes still there. This journey is a spiral staircase, not a linear hike to the top of an Instagrammable mountain. Good news is that its progress not perfection. And I never have to do it alone again.
What you’ll think of this newsletter lol. But actually, how happy it makes me to write and how sad I am that my perfectionism and procrastination keeps me from doing something that brings me to center. I want to pick up guilt for “why didn’t I do this sooner” or “why do I scroll on TikTok instead of writing?” but I can trust that I was and am doing the best I can. And I’m here now. And this is the right moment.
Asking myself “what’s the thing under the thing?”
I think I’m anxious that a guy I like hasn’t texted me back. But the thing under the thing, the thing thats really hurting me… is that I am scared of how much uncertainty there is in dating. That there’s nothing I can do to avoid this uncertainty or control it away. That I will have my feelings hurt and feel disappointment and lose something I want. That I’m not even sure how I feel about them which is equally as scary as the uncertainty about what they feel about me because I just want to feel like I am matchable — like connection is possible for me. Like I might finally be done searching. Like if I can just get to this final place, the unknown will become known.
When I can get to the thing under the thing, the anxiety subsides and usually the feeling I don’t want to feel comes to the surface. Sadness. Fear. Disappointment. The funny thing is that those feelings are actually way more manageable than my anxiety. And they pass much faster…once I feel them. My anxiety was their bodyguard.
Getting everything on my to-do list done. my romantic future. my belief that I am under-qualified or incompetent. my criticism about my body. the judgement I have about my own feelings.
Beautifully & bravely written ❤️
Thank you ❤️🙏