"And you know I can't promise you things will turn out fine. But I have to be honest, I want you to be mine." - Corinne Bailey Rae, "Breathlesss"
As I've already admitted, I'm an Olympic-level over-thinker. All of my life, I've first rehearsed in my head what I'm about to say out loud. And a lot of what is said to me? Some of it loops for years, depending on its poignancy. As this is a completely exhausting practice and because my life right now is all about evolution, I'm working on it. Or working on working it, as I told a friend a while back. But this isn't the point.
Not only do I over-think, but I also talk myself out of things. Doing things. Saying things. I'd like to say I'm choosing my battles wisely, or investing only in situations that are truly worth it, so on and so forth. And sometimes that really is the case, but a more honest me will admit that I talk myself off of ledges, too afraid and having intellectualized and over-analyzed to the point where I can't see the wood for the trees.
But I'm growing. Little by little, trading in some of that reactivity and just doing; still with consideration, but not enough to squelch the action altogether. I hope, trust and believe that in the long run, it works out in my favor, but further resolve that even if it doesn't, it's still a win because I took the risk.
I had a "caution to the wind" moment earlier this week. I made a true confession of sorts that I'd been contemplating and weighing the consequences of for months. I finally just spoke up. Secretly I hoped it would yield my desired results and silently I've since dealt with the fact that it did not. Has it sucked a little lot? Yeah. (I've done a respectable amount of emotional eating this week...lots of ice cream cones and fancy cupcakes). But what is also true is that the part of me that's proud for actually doing it, is bigger than the part that is disappointed in the outcome. Maybe that's crazy...I never really know. What I do know is that it's nice, this little bit of self-liberation.
In "The One with the Fake Monica" episode of Friends, Monica's identity gets stolen by this woman who she comes to envy because of how gregarious and full of spontaneity the woman is. Monica, who is so much so the opposite...neat freak, tightly wound, controlling (ring any bells?), wishes she could be more like her. At the end of the episode, she goes to a tap dancing class that her impostor had been attending and she is awful. She can't nail the choreography or stay in rhythm - she's completely lost. The instructor yells to her, "You in the back! You're getting it all wrong!" And Monica replies, "Yeah, but at least I'm doing it!"
Consider me an amateur and floundering, but still committed tap dancer.
