Someone I admire reached out to me online this week. Seeing their name flash up on my screen made me jump. Why would they want to talk to me? I had no idea, but feeling both excited and nervous, I clicked on their message, hoping for something good.

IMG_3203Unfortunately, this wasn’t to be.

Much to my embarrassment, they wanted to ask me not to do something. I’m not great at receiving feedback. I automatically take it as criticism, and being what some might call sensitive, I can’t hide my emotions and take things to heart.

Taken aback, I re-read their message.

Something clicked.

I realised in that moment how my actions came across badly. I could feel my face heat up in shame. What they said made sense; I’d misinterpreted advice and applied it inappropriately. I felt terrible. Despite them being lovely and understanding I never meant to cause offence, I felt really sorry and apologised for my behaviour.

Being able to admit to making a mistake without jumping to the conclusion that I am a mistake is a new experience for me. It was somehow easier to accept feedback from someone I don’t personally know, but whose work I respect. Being open-minded and willing to listen, I was able to objectively analyse their comments.

IMG_3204

Mentally separating what I do from who I am empowered me to own up to my errors and make amends without apologising for being me.

Surprisingly, a potentially awkward interaction turned out to be a truly constructive conversation. It’s already had a positive impact. I learnt first-hand that this person has integrity; what they say is reflected in their actions. This creates trust, even in a very short space of time. Moreover, I made a decision to sign up for a service from a company that this person works with because of our brief chat. It gave me confidence that it would deliver on its promises, which thus far seems likely to be the case.

Most importantly this week, I learnt that feedback doesn’t have to be negative. Indeed it can be quite the opposite, which was a real revelation. It’s an opportunity to do something differently; something better aligned with my personal values. I’m genuinely grateful to receive this kind of feedback because it’s helping me to become better in unexpected, yet positive, ways.

 

This week I’m grateful for:

*Having a home that lets us host friends and family. Particularly when I think back to living in C’s tiny terrace, I’m grateful to have the physical space to welcome people into our home. I’d previously avoided inviting visitors, anxious not to be thought of badly for the clutter and chaos that comes from combining C, me, two raggedly black cats, and all of our collective possessions.

Since moving to our new house, one of our greatest joys is having family and friends stay with us.  Not only do we now have the literal capacity to cope with even last-minute lodgers, my mental attitude to having people in my personal space has also opened up.

Becoming better at accepting myself as perfectly imperfect has rubbed off on my feelings about my home. I genuinely adore our house, which gives me confidence to care less if others don’t feel the same way. Of course I want the people I love to love it too – but I no longer need their approval – which has freed me to simply be. And allow others to simply be in my space, too.

*Soon to be living in walking distance of our nieces, whose parents will be renting a house just twenty-five minutes’ walk away. It’ll be a new experience to have family close by for both C and I as adults. There are bound to be tears and tantrums at times – and that’s just C! Still, it’s exciting to think we’ll be a more regular part of the girls’ lives as they grow up. Also, as Aunty Heather comes high on the list of the girls’ top reasons to move to Sheffield, I’m hoping I’ll get an invite to hang out in their new tree house.

*Reading my book’s draft introductory chapter and feeling relieved to find some good stuff I can work with. An aspiring author, it’s rather embarrassing to admit how reluctant I am to re-read my own writing. Without sufficient distance, I cringe upon “hearing” my own voice and can end up over-editing.

Secretly, I started writing my book back in March. It didn’t take long for me to realise I was taking on too much at once. Putting my book project on pause, I chose to focus my energies on first building my blog. My logic being that as both book and blog work in synergy, I can reasonably invest time in one for the benefit of the other. For instance, some of the self-help strategies I experiment with in my life, and write about on my blog, might eventually make their way into my book. It’s all part of my same passion project – sharing how I’m becoming better, in the hopes of helping others do the same. IMG_3186

I felt reassured after hearing my heroine, Geneen Roth, say that her latest book – “This Messy Magnificent Life” – took her over six years to write. Upon reflection, it makes sense that creating something truly beautiful takes time. Having one of my favourite authors talk about the time and effort it takes to complete her writing project, I don’t feel the need to be in such a rush with my own. As someone who enjoys the editing process, having lots of lovely words to work with has to be worthy of giving thanks.

*Receiving emails of thanks from people who’d gone out of their way to tell me that my words matter; that by sharing my stories, I’ve let them know they’re not alone. Positively impacting another person’s life – in whatever small way – is a true privilege for which I’m grateful.

Selfishly, I started this blog for as an outlet for myself. I didn’t have any particular agenda, other than to put my thoughts “out there” rather than keeping them “in here”, running circles in my mind. Rationally I know that my experiences aren’t unique to me – we all face challenges throughout our lives, and many more than we know also have mental health issues. However I hadn’t realised that writing about my vulnerabilities would bring me closer to others. I’m creating new connections all the time, as well as deepening existing relationships with acquaintances who are fast becoming friends.

 

*Geeking out over my Fizzle membership. I’ve already talked a lot about what led to my decision to sign up to this service, but what I’ve not yet shared is how grateful I am  to really embrace the learning process once more. I can’t believe it’s ten years since I last formally studied for my Master of Arts in Politics!

I’ve loved learning all my life, so its unsurprising that I’d thrive as a member of a vibrant community of fellow thinkers and creators. I’m never happier than when I’ve got a project (or ten) on the go – and I can’t think of any more ambitious than developing my own business! Choosing to join this group of indie entrepreneurs made sense, and so far, it feels like an awesome decision. My racing mind is permanently generating ideas, and the Roadmap program provides the structure I need to move forward in a (relatively) linear fashion.

What’s more, I took part in the group’s Fizzle Friday live on-line coaching session for the first time, which far exceeded my expectations. Other “Fizzlers” (the name used to describe Fizzle tribe members) asked such high-quality questions, and I was blown away by Steph Crowder’s intelligent, considered, and constructive coaching. I can’t wait to take part again, and maybe I’ll feel confident enough to ask my own questions on camera.

IMG_3199

*A mid-week Chinese takeaway. On Wednesday it was coming up to eight pm and C was still at work. I knew this having checked out his location on my iPhone (I know; slightly stalker-ish but it doesn’t count when you’ve been together nearly a decade). Something must have gone wrong at work, which meant C was likely feeling stressed and exhausted. Attempting to make the remainder of our evening as pleasant as possible, I asked him to choose a carry-out on his way back. He picked Chinese, over which we chatted about our days.

I’m grateful to be able to change our dinner plans last-minute like this. Less than a year earlier, I don’t think I could have allowed myself to be flexible around food. Take-outs were restricted to weekends only, and as an Upholder, I don’t break rules; my own or anyone else’s. It’s do-able, but this degree of self-control is emotionally exhausting long-term. As such, it’s refreshing and a relief to be able to choose love over fear, and put C’s feelings before my own anxieties.

*An excuse to spend my afternoon in my favourite cafe.

When questioned earlier this week, C insisted he “had plans” on Sunday. After asking as to the nature of said plans, it turned out to involve repairing the toilet. Don’t ask what exactly he was up to – he’s told me a million times and I’m still no wiser. In any case, when faced with the prospect of several hours sans toilet, I decided to make other plans.

Luckily for me, an air-conditioned afternoon drinking tea and eating cheesecake is barely a hardship. I took myself off to set up office in the Vietnamese cafe, a short, sunny walk away. Fast-forward a few productive hours, and I’d written a couple of #MicroBlogPosts on my Facebook page, worked on my Fizzle Roadmap, and watched Simon Sinek’s “Why” TEDtalk.

Feeling just a little guilty about how lovely my afternoon had been – particularly compared with C, who was home, elbows up to the U-bend – I phoned on my walk home to invite him to meet me half-way at the pub for a post-plumbing pint.

IMG_3201

*Standing up against casual misogyny; namely, cringe-inducing comments on my vlog. Whilst I became accustomed to this being a regular feature of the nascent net (anyone else remember ASLing in AOL teen chat back in the nineties?), it’s my first experience of this as an adult. It brought back the uncomfortable feelings I recall from being a teenager; a confusing mix of shame, self-consciousness, and self-hatred at having put myself “out there” to be criticised.

Like most women and girls, my initial reaction to inappropriate male behaviour is of the “fight or flight” variety: ignore, block, and/or run away from the situation (i.e. close the browser). Speaking to other women online, this seems the standard response, protecting  personal boundaries and cutting communications cold.

Yet this somehow didn’t sit right with me. Since coming into my thirties, I’m more aware of how much young women still have to put up with. Working with some amazing twenty-somethings, this simultaneously provoked anger and sadness in me. Becoming an Aunty, I feel a sense of responsibility to do something more, determined to set a positive example.

Nervous, I contacted said person and in a polite, positive, and professional manner, asked them not to behave this way in future. I explained how it came across to me, and how it could potentially offend other women, too. Admittedly, it wasn’t received particularly graciously, but I felt empowered by having taken action. As someone who believes in the inherent goodness of people, I lived my values by giving someone the opportunity to change. I’m grateful to be able to make my own small contribution to standing up for women and girls’ rights to be respected online.

 

Until next time!

H x