The Hard Thing

This week I have had to do many hard things – have hard conversations, admit uncomfortable truths, plan a sad trip. I did not want to do any of those things because they are … you guessed it – hard by definition. I used to succumb to my fear of the hard thing. Not surprising, that was when I struggled with depression and emotional outbursts. The correlation between being dominated by fear and feeling sad or angry all the time makes sense to me now. I wasn’t being my authentic self because fear of rejection or separation had me convinced that doing the hard thing was worse than avoiding it.

I did not set out to get therapy to learn how to do hard things or become my authentic self. I did not have that language when at 18 I decided I was tired of being locked in a mind that was barely ever happy. I just wanted to feel better. There were so many peaks and valleys on that journey. To be honest there were times when I felt like I wasn’t making any progress, like it wasn’t worth it. I didn’t know then that therapy wasn’t a magic lamp, and my therapist wasn’t a genie. I just wanted to feel better.

It took more than 20 years of emotional work and at least 8 different therapists. Slowly I began to say the hard things when I was calm, as opposed to waiting until I was so angry that I used the hard things to eviscerate who ever dared to offend. To be clear it wasn’t easy, I remember the anxiety that I felt about telling a loved one a truth that felt shameful, or being assertive with a person in a position of power. Talk about stress.

At first I did the hard things like a colt learning to walk. I was clumsy and sometimes terrible at it.

Over time, I learned that prioritizing which hard things I wanted to focus on matters – I didn’t have to address everything;

I learned that tone matters – no one wants to feel chastised;

I learned that preparing the person for what I was about to say matters – no one likes to be ambushed;

I learned that environment matters – choosing a place and time that works for both parties makes hard conversations easier;

I learned that being honest and kind matters – honesty does not have to be brutal.

I learned that avoidance only only guarantees my misery.

Sometimes it worked out well and at other times not so great. But eventually I stopped exclusively pleasing everyone else and silently resenting them for the sacrifice I had chosen to make, and found balance.

Hard things still make me anxious but I do them. Doing the hard things helped me discover my authentic self and freed me from a vicious cycle of pleasing and resentment. I have learned that hard things matter, and that saying them and doing them thoughtfully also matters.

If you are a praying person, pray for me this weekend. I have to take a trip that is a sad trip. It is hard, and I am going to do it; avoiding is not an option.