Assumptions are at the core of my anxiety. When I’m anxious about nearly anything — be it something stupid I said in a conversation, anticipating conflict, or simply wondering what others may think of me — the anxiety manifests by my assuming that I already know the outcome. What’s most frustrating about this, however, is that the conclusions I often jump to only occasionally match reality. By being my own worst critic, I’m assuming that others are assuming the worst in me. In actuality, it’s likely that the stupid thing I said or did has been long forgotten (unlike this ice cream, which is still very much on my mind).
As I’ve been learning to lessen this behavior, I’ve unpacked a few key points to remind myself that the famous anecdote about assumptions is completely true. First off, the only opinion I should use to judge my behavior is my own. Of course, this has exceptions. I highly value the opinions of those closest to me, and I’m especially cognizant of accepting when someone feels as though I’ve done something wrong. Others’ judgments of my awkward moments or small slip-ups, though, only hold value if I let them. Zingerman’s, for example, is worth just as much value as I think it is.
Alongside the fact that my mind only gives as much weight to others’ opinions as I let it, the assumption that others are being unfair to me also inherently involves me being unfair to them. If I assume, for example, that someone was upset by something I said, then that suggests that I’m expecting a certain reaction from that person. For all I know, this person couldn’t have given what I said a second thought. By assuming their reaction before they’re even given the chance to express it, I’m being unfair to them.
What’s arguably the worst kind of assumptions, though, are the ones I make about myself. Like many other people I know, the harshest criticism I receive often comes from myself. However, If I go into a potentially uncomfortable situation automatically expecting it to bring out the worst in me, then I’m not giving myself the chance to grow. I’m slowly learning to silence my inner critic, separating my own thoughts from the anxious ones in the background. While I may have the occasional awkward moment, overshare, or rash decision, I’m ultimately a fan of who I’ve become — regardless of what anyone may assume.
That’s your food for thought for this week.
STRESS EATS 