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Considering how long we’ve been acquainted, I have to give it a name. It being the disturbingly calm voice I’ve come to obey situation after situation, year after year, despite its penchant for yielding disappointment and pain in the life of yours truly. The voice is a white light of unreason; a predatory nuisance disguised under I have your best interest at heart rhetoric. From my own mind and of my own creation, this voice has talked me out of more opportunities than I care to acknowledge. That’s why I have to give it a name, so I can call it out for the bully that it is and give it the dancing on your grave funeral it has long deserved.
I don’t write them all down or file them away in my own personal missed connections or missed opportunities memory bank. The empty feeling generated from that void is enough. I’ll talk myself out of attending an event that’s right up my alley simply because a friend can’t make it. “That’s all right. I didn’t really want to go,” I’ll tell myself. I’ll ignore the butterflies I get in my stomach when I encounter a man who genuinely strikes my interest. “I’m going to talk to him. For once, I’ll approach a man for a change,” I think, but I always end up talking myself out of it. “He won’t be interested anyway. He probably has a girlfriend. Yep, look at him. No way a man that good looking is single. No. Way.”
To keep myself from ending up in an uncomfortable situation, something I do more often than not is hold my tongue. I’ll refrain from saying what’s really on my mind in an attempt to avoid what I feel might be confrontation – something I loathe. Or I’ll keep my mouth shut in order to spare someone’s feelings. I’ll tell myself reason after reason why I shouldn’t speak my mind and before you know it, I’ve added fuel to the things unsaid file, which, can one day implode on me in the worst way.
I’ve talked myself out of meeting people I truly admire. Recently, I had the chance to meet one of my favorite musical artists one on one, someone whose career I’ve followed and supported from the jump, but I chickened out. I told myself that I would one day have another chance and connect with this person under better or more ideal circumstances, knowing full well that that may never happen. I’m beyond awful when it comes to networking and do the same thing when in the presence of everyday people.
Decisions initially met with optimism are quickly deterred by this amazing ability I have to shut ish down before it’s even begun. It’s like having a 2-year-old who’s hell-bent on saying “no” to everything, minus the ‘tude and the tantrums. To put it simply, I’ve trained myself to anticipate “no” as an answer – to protect myself from the pain of rejection, to avoid embarrassment and the sting of discomfort, etc. – and end up saying the word to myself instead. And guess what? I’m tired of doing that.
I should be growing and making necessary changes so that I can live my best life. I’ve lost friends and missed out on making new ones. I’ve lost and missed out on jobs and opportunities that could have advanced my career. Living like this – obeying a voice that has and will continue to do more harm than good if I let it, has discouraged me from being spontaneous. Not to mention, it zaps a lot of the fun that should come with living and breathing and doing and being. And that’s no way for me to live. Not anymore. I refuse to.
