Owning All of Who We Are

"It makes you human, something you have a hard time swallowing," He said

"I KNOW I am human," she replied, slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, but you don't like it. You think of it like any other weakness, something you can rise above if you really, really put your mind to it."

"Yes, exactly!" I said to the TV, and my husband just smiled. and said, "yep, that pretty much sums up your life philosophy." 

My husband and I were curled up on the couch watching a Million little Things on TV when the characters Regina and Rome perfectly described why being human is so hard to admit:

It is something I believe I can overcome if I only try hard enough.

It is similar to the sentiment: you can only do so much in a day or rest if you are sick or tired. And I can say, "Yes!! I know that is true." The part I don't say out loud is "for other people" because I have different rules for myself. Other people might have to rest, but I can carry on and do more. I can always handle more. I can push myself hard enough that I might overcome that small annoying reality about being human. (Welcome to High Functioning Anxiety) 

I know this belief is a trap, and it keeps me hustling and pushing for something that is impossible. My Monger keeps telling me that if I only pushed harder and hustled more, I could move beyond my human tendencies. It is ironic; she is shaming me for not pushing beyond my human tendencies, yet pushing harder leads to mishaps that can cause more anxiety. 

I had an in-person speaking event, and they required proof of vaccine or a negative test to enter. I had taken a photo of my husband and my vaccine cards for an event we had attended earlier that month, so when I glanced at my phone and saw the pictures, I assumed mine was there. But when I arrived and she asked to see my card I didn't have it. I had deleted my vaccine card and only had my husband's. Fortunately, I was able to call my husband, and he texted me a photo (yay for modern technology). As we waited for my husband to text me back, my Monger was screaming at me, "How could you be so stupid. I mean, she made it clear you needed the card. She told you the rules, but typical for you that you are running late, so you don't double-check everything. You are so unprofessional."

 The host was very kind but insistent that she had to see the card--her Monger was beating her up for being such a stickler because she explained that it wasn't her that was so high maintenance; it was the people she worked for. But I was so far down the shame spiral I couldn't hear her. 

Finally, my husband texted the picture, and crisis averted, the host and I laughed about being human, and it was a non-event. 

Later, as I was waiting to speak, my Monger chimed in to remind me how irresponsible and unprofessional I was. I KNEW I was going to have to show my vaccine card. WHY didn't I double-check the names on the pictures. WHY, WHY, WHY. 

And then, I did something that still feels unnatural. I took responsibility. I owned my mistake. I said, "Sweetpea, you made a mistake, and it is over. Mistakes happen, even to you. Let's not get snagged on this. Let it go." Owning my mistake works every time. 

I didn't always own my mistakes. Years ago, my BFF would have stepped in to protect me from my Monger and tried to justify the mistake. "The host didn't care, and it was a non-issue, no big deal." Or she would have tried to blame someone else and said, "Ugh, she should have just trusted me. Why didn't she trust me when I said I was vaccinated?" (Even though I was thrilled she took such a hard line because that meant they took a hard line with all the attendees.)

But rather than stopping my Monger, that would have just fired her up more. And she and the BFF would argue back and forth. My anxiety would be so high that one mistake would have clouded my whole experience.

But when my Biggest Fan (the voice of self loyalty) steps in to say, "Yep, we made a mistake, and it is not the end of the world." It stops the Monger in her tracks. I have been surprised at 

 a. how much it helps when I own my mistakes, and 

 b. how hard it is to own my mistakes :) 

But when I own my mistakes (yep, I am imperfect about that too--ha!), it decreases my anxiety and makes my life more vibrant. I don't waste as much time trying to prove the impossible. And I don't activate the BFF Monger wrestling match. 

Tomorrow we are going to continue this conversation by talking about affirmations and how we can create mantras that help us build self-loyalty and ease our anxiety.