Oh, no.
The nighttime “grabbies” were back.
The merciless, repetitive, berating tape loop playing in my head in the dark of night:
Why did you say that?
You should’ve handled it differently!
He’ll think you’re a moron.
You could have come off so much better…
And now you blew it…
And a second loop plays on top of that one:
Stop. Just stop.
Stop exaggerating.
Get a grip.
You didn’t do anything wrong.
Everything’s fine.
The pinging in my busy skull was making sleep difficult. Who can drift off with all that noise?
Two attention-grabbing tape loops, competing for dominance: a battle between “old me” and “new me.”
“Old me” relives flaws and missteps, all of them equally devastating. There’s no way to forgive myself or forget what I did—what I believe I did.
“New me” puts incidents in perspective, recognizing that any deviation from self-defined perfection is not automatically a misstep—and certainly not one of epic proportions. This too shall pass!
Where “old me” feels that Judgment Day has arrived and I’ve been found wanting, “new me” recognizes that judgement isn’t even on the menu, as my alleged blunder didn’t register in someone else’s busy day. (Hey, it’s not about me! Whaddya know!)
Most days, “new me” wins. Yeah, that feels great. I worked hard to get here.
But sometimes, “old me” makes a bid for a comeback.
It is not often in life that we are spoon-fed the antidote to the poison we have consumed.
The trigger this time?
A successful author I respect asked me how things were going (via email). And instead of offering up a response that perfectly straddled cool irony and optimism, I blurted. I confessed to feeling “fractured.” I spilled on all the disjointed stuff I’m doing, ranging from writing this newsletter to posting on TikTok, and a bunch of things in between.
I came off—I thought—like an idiot.
Like someone who isn’t a serious writer, just a dabbler.
Like someone who is floundering, can’t get her act together, will never be seen as an A-lister…whatever that means…
The “wound” in all this is that I want to impress this person, to come across as a peer, not a silly wannabe.
So that night, hours after the e-mail exchange, the grabbies came a-calling. And the competing tapes blathered on and on.
Here’s where this story takes a turn.
My correspondent kindly acknowledged that feeling “fractured” is a sense many authors share, a sign of the times, he said. He worked hard to insulate himself from some of it, especially social media.
Oh, so he is empathizing with me, not ridiculing me.
But I couldn’t leave it there. I replied that I had “stewed” over my info dump and admitted that I thought I’d come off as “scatter-brained and not serious about writing.”
Was I fishing for compliments? Absolutely not! Was I letting my grabbies take a stroll in broad daylight, perhaps as a way to release the burden? I’m not quite sure.
His next reply was telling:
He said that I didn’t come across as scatter-brained. He confessed that many of the newer marketing and promotion outlets I was busy cultivating had passed him by.
So what actually happened was:
My correspondent leveled the playing field.
He didn’t perceive my activities as proof of deficiencies.
He essentially undid the damage I had inflicted on myself.
Okay, next pivot.
It is not often in life that we are spoon-fed the antidote to the poison we have consumed.
Put another way, I received timely, unequivocal validation that proved my nighttime grabbies did not correspond with reality.
I got lucky—this time.
But we are not always so lucky. We tell lies against ourselves from which there is no rescue.
Which means: You have to do this work yourself—for yourself.
Takeaways.
Become your own validator.
Refute the lies you tell about yourself.
Write yourself a praise letter.
The grabbies aren’t real: Push back against them with hard truths.
Chances are, your “mistake” isn’t on someone else’s radar because it never happened.
Make a point of becoming your own best friend, not your worst enemy.
Show yourself the grace and benefit of the doubt you show to others.
Step into the “new you” and leave behind the “old you” that isn’t serving you well.
These may not all be easily achievable; you’ll have to put in the time and the work. But this is an excellent path to pursue. Because, as the saying goes, you’re worth it.
I know the grabbles well. We're on a first name basis. I'm going to try the praise letter - it feels in keeping with how you discovered the other person had allowed a number of the things you were doing to pass him by. Just goes to show how we craft our own narrative of failure thanks to the grabbles when it may not match other peoples' perspectives at all. Creative post!
Great advice across the board. As for feeling "fractured", a doubting writer is an accurate writer.