Am I in trouble?
I went to a rigid elementary school.
My first-grade class was always in trouble. I can't recall what we did, but we must have been hoodlums. For almost the entire school year we endured some sort of punishment for our unruliness.
Silent lunches were the administration's go-to punishment. As we filed into the cafeteria, the lunch ladies would smack orange cones on the tables with "SILENT" scrawled vertically in black sharpie. No talking for the entire lunch period - just drink your chocolate milk and eat your square pizza, kid.
That year my sweet mother would bring lunch once a week so a friend and I could join her in the outdoor courtyard where we could talk like humans. But every time my mom visited, I'd wince when they called me to the office to meet her - fearing that, this time it wasn't my mother with Taco Bell, but that I had unknowingly committed some crime...and it was my heinie's time for the paddle.
Thankfully, my elementary anxiousness was always misplaced, but the neural pathways were created nonetheless.
And I grew up afraid of getting into trouble.
Like an adopted dog with an abusive first owner, sometimes I still navigate life wincing at the innocuous experiences of everyday, fearful of the swat I don't see coming or hunched in the corner, worried I'm unknowingly breaking a rule I never knew about.
When I receive an unexpected call from a client my my first thought is, "Oh god, what did I forget?"
If my wife questions something I'm doing I assume she's criticizing not only my approach, but also my personhood.
When I take more than 24 hours to respond to an email, I walk around in shame, believing the other party has already badmouthed me to everyone they know.
And if a friend doesn't respond to a request to hang out, I worry it's because they've decided that they no longer want to be friends with me.
I have some friends who are fortunate enough to not deal with any of this at all. My buddy Andrae operates by this principle:
"If you have a problem with me and you haven't told me you have a problem with me - we don't have a problem."
Imagine how much freedom he must enjoy because he's not anxious that he accidentally offended someone, broke a rule, or got himself into trouble.
For those of us who don't have Andrae's confidence - and let's face it, many of us don't - we've got to cultivate some courage by practicing a strategy I've been using and teaching to folks over the past few years.
The strategy is called: Look at the Data
As in, look at the recent interactions you've had in your life - do they warrant the anxiety and fear you're giving them?
I'll illustrate the Look at the Data strategy using the examples in the bullet points above:
Look at the Data: Has a client ever randomly called you and yelled at you for making a mistake? No.
Look at the Data: Is your wife fond of making you feel stupid because she doesn't think you're a capable human? Nope.
Look at the Data: Have you ever heard a report of someone talking smack about you because you don't adhere to the unwritten rule of responding to emails within 24 hours? Not yet.
Look at the Data: Once in your life - ever - have you had a friend just stop responding to your texts only to find out months later they've edited you out of their lives completely? As of today, no.
All of us nervous adults are still kids on the inside who desperately want to avoid the pain of being in trouble.
As you read that line above I hope you can have some compassion on yourself and anyone in your life who's still afraid of 'getting it wrong' and whatever punishment comes along with it.
For the most part, the punishments we fear don't exist anymore. It's our unwillingness to Look at the Data and accept what we find that keeps the imaginary paddle top of mind.
P.S. If this post resonated with you, you're going to really relate to my first book that's about to go on pre-sale. It's written for folks who have a deep-seeded fear that something's wrong with them and worry that they'll never get life 'right'. Let me know if you want me to notify you directly when the book releases.
