When to Disengage from Triggering Correspondences
This won't be easy, so let's try it out together.
Listen to this article by clicking the link above.
Oof, this is quite the subject for me. And the truth is, I could write at least 100 posts about this subject.
We’ve talked (a lot) about the power of saying “no” (which inevitably means saying “yes” to something else that’s more in line with your needs), and I consider this post to be the cousin to that.
The moral of the story here (which is basically the subject of today’s Substack) has been a very, very difficult life lesson for me that I’m only now fully absorbing … most of the time.
Because the truth is, as much as we work on our own self-growth and self-acceptance, if others aren’t working on theirs—or if they are just having a bad day (which happens to all of us)—their communication could easily slip into energetically soul-sucking.
Don’t let your soul get sucked
You know what I’m talking about, right? The people who send us follow-up emails (or phone calls) because 24 hours has gone by and we haven’t replied to their non-urgent message. The ones who make their feelings our problems, approaching us with intensity and blame.
Let me first say that conceptually, I fully understand that it’s not my job to take care of others’ angst and not my responsibility to respond to their neediness.
As a person who has been labeled “too much” for much of her life (it was literally in the name of my memoir), I have a soft spot for the kind of person who lays it on thick, expects immediate replies, and doesn’t always see the way they come off. Truthfully, I’m still like that sometimes—which I’m sure stems from my well-worn anxiety.
On both sides, I get it: I get what it’s like to be that person, and on some level, I fully understand that I am completely allowed to answer intense correspondences on my own time and in my own way … or not reply at all.
And while most of the time I am effectively able to reply in a way that turns the energetic volume down a few (thousand) notches, sometimes I either fall off the horse (not that anyone should ride horses in the first place, and thus concludes this vegan PSA), or I reply appropriately … but then I spiral about it in my head.
Spiraling should be reserved only for zoodles
Why do I spiral, especially after doing such a rockstar job of maintaining composure in the actual reply?
Well, I think it’s my anxiety rearing its ugly head. It’s because of years of conditioning to react to the emotional needs of others. For me, spiraling usually relates back to certain people (not everyone) in my childhood not being able to meet my emotional needs, so my instinct became to bend toward theirs. Anxiety became my coping mechanism.
As an adult, I am non-linearly learning to thank my anxiety for getting me through some difficult moments when being on high alert definitely served my best interests.
If we don’t look out for the bear, the bear might eat us; anxiety exists for a reason.
The ways I’ve been re-parenting myself have included validating that little girl and reminding her that she’s safe, seen, and heard—and that I’m with her now …“I” meaning the fully capable grown-up who understands and respects boundaries (my own and others’).
And since that little girl gets stuck in a place where some of the people who should have looked after her didn’t (they had their own broken parts, I suppose), the me-now can rise to the occasion. The me-now can step in and intervene.
Saving face and extending grace
When I am able to do that—when I can pause instead of instantaneously react to someone else’s demands or needs—I am my highest self. I am the proud product of my re-parenting.
I am doing what I couldn’t previously do, which is to not make someone else’s bad day my emergency.
Like I said, this is hard shit. And I do have perspective about it, and deep compassion for both the needy communicator and my occasional damaged-person response.
We must each extend grace and generosity to ourselves and one another, especially these days. But that doesn’t always mean we do.
It certainly doesn’t mean I always do.
So back to that intense email, text, or (heaven help me) DM. When I’m well-rested, living my values, practicing mindfulness (which I did in the shower this morning simply by intently watching the soap on my arms and legs and taking in that lovely scent of the product I was using), and eating in a way that is aligned with my needs and worldview, I generally respond thoughtfully, succinctly, and professionally.
But when I’m off-kilter, I might find myself firing back an equally intense, frequently defensive reply—usually with the goal of EXPLICITLY AND IN NO UNCERTAIN TERMS STATING MY BOUNDARIES, using way more words than are necessary.
I’m *over* explaining
I have a tendency to over-explain; this has become a bit of a joke amongst my closest people in both professional and personal settings. But over-explaining—especially when it’s a reactive reply to someone else’s feelings or overwhelming desires—is nothing more than an expression of that hurting girl.
Here’s what I want to do:
I want to realign my correspondences with my needs, and I want to remember to do so with relentless compassion.
Part of this means I want to reply undramatically to people who are dramatic to me. Their issue is not my problem, but it also doesn’t mean I should be unkind.
I want to pause and not engage if I’m feeling triggered by someone’s purported emergency, understanding that my trigger is well-worn for a reason, and knowing that in pausing I can recalibrate and show up as my highest adult self.
And let me put a pin in this for later: I’m currently in the process of donating a ton of things—clothes, shoes, random stuff. Like so many of us, I have been holding onto these tangible items for far too long, and getting rid of them feels shockingly amazing.
I guess I’m finally at the point where I can let go of (literal) things that no longer serve me, and—as with the correspondences—realign my belongings with my actual needs. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that these two things—responding to correspondences more authentically and getting rid of things I don’t use—are happening concurrently (cue Marie Kondo).
xo,
jazz
P.S. I was lucky enough to be a guest on the Sentient Media podcast, and it’s live today. The discussion centers around “Finding Hope and Faith as an Activist.” I hope you watch and listen. Thanks!
love this and love you!
some specific things i love from this:
"the power of saying “no”"
"Don’t let your soul get sucked"
"Spiraling should be reserved only for zoodles"
"I am non-linearly learning to thank my anxiety for getting me through some difficult moments"
"I have a tendency to over-explain" (what do you mean by that? jkjkjkjk... i have an idea for a book about me also called "the over-explainer" with a subtitle "because i over-explain things")
"I want to reply undramatically to people who are dramatic to me."
LOVE IT ALL! LOVE YOU! (he said, dramatically!)
Thanks! Look forward to listening to the Sentientism podcast.