A Lesson in Not Overcorrecting

As you evolve, hold onto your true essence—even if it used to be seen as taxing.

In my life, I’ve suffered from Hyperbolia, Exaggerationitis, and Long-term Dramataticenza.

These afflictions and I go way back. On some level, I’m grateful to the former incarnations of Jasmin for making sure she was heard, even if that meant occasionally being too much, too loud, too eye-roll-worthy. I got through some tough times that way, and though it’s not a choice I’d make anymore, I really do get why I was (quite literally) given the “Most Theatrical” superlative in high school.

And even though I’ve spent much of the 25 years since I graduated working to tone down the drama factor, one thing I’ve noticed recently is that even as I’ve become a bit more Zen (thanks, twelve-step programs!), I can still easily fall into theatrics-infused thinking—specifically as it relates to professional fulfillment. (My ambition can be a real asshole sometimes.)

Telling stories in the dark

And while it’s possible for me to still tell myself stories that invite negative spiraling, make empty predictions, and measure my worth by arbitrary moments that don’t display the full story, I am now learning how to not over-correct.

And, my, what a humbling lesson it is!

After all, my bigness—my “always too much”-ness—carries with it some major perks. Throwing it away completely would be doing a disservice to myself. My bigness gives me stage presence, confidence, and drive. It’s why I’m trusted in professional settings, and why I am seen (by others and by myself) as a high achiever.

Honestly, I love these things about myself. I don’t want to remove them.

So as I come to terms with the areas where I could stand to be a little less absolutist (such as pretending I know how a situation will turn out) and instead be a little more open-ended (such as understanding that it could go any number of directions)—and as I work hard to bring myself back to the moment, sometimes 100,000 times a day—I must also recognize the value and beauty that my Jasminness holds.

Go big or go home

Maybe you can identify with this. Maybe a parent or a partner or the world told you that you were too much, that you took up too much space, or that your needs were too demanding. Maybe, as a result, you didn’t get your needs met, or you put yourself in situations where you thought you were getting them met—only to later realize you were going down some dangerous paths.

Maybe you, too, did your share of therapy and self-growth and came out the other side with more self-esteem—and a keener ability to self-soothe—than you had gone in with. If that’s you, I applaud and admire you. Seriously, you’re so badass.

It just doesn’t serve us to come out of that journey of self-growth by overcorrecting, or erasing our verve, because—here’s the thing—our verve is not always connected to neediness or toxicity.

Sometimes it is our bigness that is exactly why we are shiny and sparkly. It’s OK to take up space. Like, it’s fabulous to take up space.

Find your light

This has all been a difficult life lesson for me to learn, partly because I’m a storyteller, a creative, and a highly sensitive person. There are days when being comfortable with the moment comes very easily, and there are days when I struggle with an underlying sadness that can cause me to lose my perspective, my sense of self, and my connection to gratitude. I even went on an antidepressant a couple of months ago as a way to even out the baseline so that it doesn’t dip too far down. (Let’s normalize talking about this shit, amirite?)

Self-confidence isn’t generally something I struggle with, but it can be pretty easy for me to lose sight of my achievements and where I am on my long-ass path to fulfillment. It’s something I’m actively working on—including by tuning into The Daily Calm or Tara Brach, working with a fantastic coach, seeing a Lifestyle Medicine Doctor, the aforementioned antidepressants, and being gentle and kind with myself. This is very much a “one day at a time” journey, and sometimes within that one day, I have a thousand mini interventions with myself and my thoughts. So be it.

One thing I know for sure is that overcorrecting would never be in my own best interest because it is those very characteristics—being celebratory, in search of beauty, and soul-seeking—that make me uniquely, fabulously me.

xo,

jazz