Me: I hope you aren’t drowning in my dark. It can be a bit heavy if you aren’t me.
Him: Yes. Stay in the light. It’s warm.
Me: I get the impression you can handle it, but don’t let me overburden you.
Him: What does that mean?
Me: You have a strength about you but it’s not a strength that you can put on like a jacket. It’s who you are and it was born through survival. It’s easy to lean on you and borrow what you have.
Him: Wow. You’re not wrong, but how did you get all of that?
Me: We hung out and talked for like 20 minutes in my car. You were there.
I overthink things. It’s a default setting for me. For years that skill was put to use in advocating as an autism mom. My Mom had a few wars to wage and my research superpowers were called to action. As a student and mom and wife, I was able to do it without sleep and not always remembering to feed myself with a kindergartner on my back, asking me how to spell things. Now it’s about people and interactions and I can’t shut it off.
It’s funny sometimes that I can see what I’m doing and call it out in others, but it’s hard to stop. A couple of weeks ago I was at La Velvet Margarita Cantina in Hollywood with friends, having fun playing wing woman to the men with me.
I gave one friend advice that got him affection from his girlfriend:
Me: buy a rose. Call her up. Tell her this rose was handed to you by the guy walking around and selling them. It wasn’t until you touched the petals that you missed her because they reminded you of her skin. Then ask if you can drop it off.
Him: you’re good.
Me: yeah . . . When you see her, make the rose an extension of your fingertips along her cheek. She needs to feel what reminded you of her.
For my other friend, I kept offering my friendly “hello” to random women and nudging my friend in their direction. He’d chat and come back for a debriefing, and I kept telling him, “stop overthinking it, love.”
That same night there was an Andy. Walking past him, I called out, “You’re beautiful.” We had a couple of separate moments where the conversation started, and I walked away, but I have fun rejecting men and I was looking for an excuse to let him go. I wasn’t lying. He was beautiful, but that is never enough. His rejection came in his passivity. He let me initiate each interaction and I was okay letting him go because I wasn’t interested enough to accept the mixed signals he was sending. I watched his body language and the way he had moments of turning out toward me and moments of turning his back to me. I noticed way too much about what he was doing to appreciate the short conversations we had. I was over thinking it.
I’m really great at over thinking things. I’m exceptionally talented at over complicating the simplest things.
Today I’m working on bold authenticity because it’s easier to hide in something false. I’m working on accepting that life’s events are neutral and I can guide my response by defining my interpretation. I’m living in intention and outside of expectations. (This should be a post one day, but don’t hold me to it.) I’m working on being present in the moment, because it’s not a super power right now. I’m working on self love because when old patterns emerge, I can no longer ignore them and beating myself up over them is my default. I get to see what I’m doing and what my motives are and face them so I’m no longer controlled by them. And I get to release the need to over think things by addressing them boldly, no matter what that may look like.