Last week, I wrote about how acting can bring to the surface
the ever persistent “issues” in our real life.

Often, once an issue surfaces, we begin to see it in multiple places and the world conspires to lovingly punch us in the face with it until we can see it clearly. Often we have the tendency to say, “Sure, I know that’s an issue, but I’ll put it on the shelf and deal with it later.” Later/tomorrow is the motto of those whose shelves collect dust.

When friends and I traveled in Europe we had a motto which stated, “If you don’t do it now, you’re not going to do it.” Why do you think companies spend money investing in training seminars to help their salespeople better “get the sale?” They know that if you say, “I’ll think about it,” there’s a rare chance you’ll be back. People are impulsive and we react viscerally to an experience.

This is why I notice when my “issue” comes back to punch me in the face. A few nights after my “therapeutic” acting critique, I am leaving my exercise class when two of the girls turn to me. “You’re so strong,” one says as the other agrees, nodding in my direction. I immediately reply, “Thanks.” AND THEN begin rambling things like, how I can’t wait to be able to do the moves properly, and how it will be nice when I’m also graceful. SLAP. Yep. Right in the face.

“HELLO! YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN.

RIGHT NOW.”

Acting class became a highlighter for a persistent “issue.” I was able to see a well worn pattern. I play down compliments, brush them aside, steer the focus away. During the interaction, after exercise class, I felt uncomfortable and noticed an ulterior dialogue running in my head.

“If I say, ‘Thanks I am strong,’ they might think I’m arrogant? Then they might not like me? Then they might talk behind my back about how I’m arrogant?”

The weird thing, is that I am strong but I work at it. I practice assisted pull-ups at home for the sole reason of being able to do the moves in aerial or pole. Second, I’m not arrogant because arrogance would imply that I have an exaggerated sense of self. What I actually have, is a fear that people are going to be mean to me or reject me if I’m good at things.

Do I know where this comes from? Yes, thanks to the therapist I once had, I do. When I was 15, I attended an invite only basketball clinic where I learned techniques at an accelerated rate. This made me a stellar basketball player in my age group. My coach played me almost every second of every game and I was happy because I felt accepted by everyone on the team. Then one evening, I lingered in the locker room later than normal, and I overheard a few of my teammate friends talking about me behind my back.

I slunk quietly behind the lockers, listening, ten feet away, like a bloody car crash you want to stop seeing but you just can’t pull your eyes away. In that moment my 15-year-old self constructed the story that, if I was successful, people would be mean to me and talk behind my back, while being smiley and sweet to my face. My 15 year old self made up a story that being great at something (equaled) feeling hurt (equaled) being excluded . . . My story said: “You can’t be successful and still have people like you.”

It’s no wonder that when people tell me good things about myself I feel the need to downplay. We all have these mechanisms, these ways that we protect ourselves from the stories that we have made up long ago, stories that no longer serve us.

Everyone in high school thought I didn’t give a crap what people thought of me; they thought I was brave. I wore “costumes:” bell-bottoms and beads around my head one day, and then I’d be dressed from head to toe in Clueless attire the next. It’s not that I didn’t care, but rather caring led to being hurt, so why not try on a variety of different personas and see which one offers you the most protection. I wasn’t brave. I was trying to hide.

Now in my life, I understand that no matter where I am along my journey, there will be people who might not like me. The difference is that the right people, the people who I actually want in my life, will. So when the subconscious deflated shadow of myself at 15 whispers to me, I consciously remind myself that I am not that little girl anymore.

Starting last night I made a deal with myself that since this “issue” has blatantly surfaced the lake, it requires direct attention. Starting last night my deal is to remove the addendums. When someone gives me a compliment my response will be, “Thank you. I appreciate you saying that.” Or some variant of that phrase. Then I will SHUT-MY MOUTH. Period. I will practice receiving compliments like a little kid receiving a gift, with excitement, instead of the adult phrase, “Oh you shouldn’t have.”

Why shouldn’t I have?

There’s no answer for that. It’s a phrase we say and who knows why we say it because it cuts us off from gratitude, from the sincere acceptance of the gift, and from the person who is giving it to us.

“Thank you.” Big smile. “I appreciate it.”

I know I’m not the only one with this “issue.” This is why I share my personal stuff. Because I have this crazy notion that by being real, it helps everyone lean towards the acceptance of our own awesomeness, like plants lean towards the sun,

without making excuses for it.

With Love,

Z :)