12 life tips you forgot you needed (part 2)

part 2 was supposed to be comprised of another four very important lessons I would make sure to share with my younger self. however as I started pouring my heart out into the first two of this section, I couldn’t fit four. so, in this week’s lesson’s you forgot you needed I present you with 8 and 7! Enjoy!

8. no may just be the best thing you’ve ever heard

I will be the first to tell you that I might have once hated this word. not for any reason other than I hate being told no and I’m kind of sh*t at using this word. from the time I could talk until my teen years I was rather great at it (with family at least). when I started to develop protective measures in my life, I became a yes (wo)man. I found the justification in everything for everyone else but myself.

but this word…

there is so much to say in these two letters saddled side by side. it can be the difference between life and death. the difference between acceptance and rejection. it can be quiet or it can be loud. it can be a safe haven and key to freedom. it can change the trajectory of your life if you learn to master this word.

no comes in two forms: speaking and receiving.

I was just rejected from a job I really wanted. I thought I had it in the bag. I thought getting a second part interview was a huge indicator that this was going to be it. the job that was going to change parts of my life I have been looking to change. when I got my rejection letter, I was upset. instant acceptance that nothing will work out (except I also knew that was a lie and it wasn’t the right job for me right now). that doesn’t deter from the pain I felt for those brief moments.

a certain level of shame came with this moment for me. I had told so many people about it. expressed my hope in it. wrote down every day that it was my job. so to receive that email and know this wasn’t going to be it sent me backwards a few steps. the first bit had to do with knowing that I was going to have to tell everyone I had told about it that it wasn’t me. that may have been the worst part. I could handle it on my own but not letting down others. until I accepted I just needed to own it. it wasn’t the right job. and deep down I knew that too. that’s why it didn’t work out.

when receiving this simple word to something you really wanted: whether it’s a job, a new toy, a raise or promotion, a hug and kiss, or any of the many other things in life we can be told no to, it’s how we choose to receive it that makes the difference. acceptance is the first step and then there is no where to go but up from there.

then there is using the word yourself.

someone asks you to get them coffee and you say no. someone asks you to compromise your standards and you say no. someone asks you to meet up and you say no. this word holds a lot of weight. the way we present it back to others, can make the biggest difference.

when we are young, it is so easy to throw this word around – mostly with those closest to us. as we age though, I, myself, have turned into the pleasingest of people pleasers (yes you can add that word to your dictionary). finding it difficult to say no for fear of missing out, hurting someone else’s feelings, letting others down. nothing about it never feels easy, but I have come to realize how that hurts me.

realizing that the word no can protect you from compromising your life and values often builds the respect others have for you. it may not be prominent at first, but I guarantee it will come back as bigger blessings.

when we say no to one thing, we open opportunity for other things. we have to be careful about what we choose to say yes to, because that is the energy and possibility we let into our life. it doesn’t mean we can’t change or reroute the results (results are always changing) but it does mean we will be walking down a trail we most likely didn’t intend on taking in that moment.

a lot of it has to do with knowing yourself. knowing who you are. knowing what you want. knowing what is okay for you in your life and what is not. the word no is a power tool for you and one of the most dangerous weapons for those that embrace themselves and know themselves.

this is an ever-evolving process. for the rest of your life you will be getting to know yourself. but if you haven’t done that in awhile. if you haven’t taken the time to get to know you, I encourage you to go do it. to find out who you are and what you like and what is important to you so that you can inspire those around you to hold themselves to higher standards. to become people that aren’t afraid of two simple letters:

n. o.

7. fear is your biggest enemy and your greatest strength

baby birds learn to fly when they jump out of their nest. if they fall, they are abandoned by their parent. hey, that’s survival of the fittest for you. if a bird is too afraid to jump on that fateful flight day, mom will leave them behind. it’s move or be killed. that’s not to say that little bird can’t still go for it, but they will be on their own if they do. soaring into a world with zero guidance. that’s scary. maybe scarier than being killed by whatever rabid animal lays waiting on the ground.

sometimes we get stuck and locked in place by fear. I will be the first to put my hand in the air and scream ‘all the freaking time’. if I’m about to do something new and exciting (or nerve-wracking, although these are technically the same feeling), I get this burning feeling in the bottom of my stomach that sort of makes me feel like I want to throw up. my heart beats in my ears. my face goes from a nice tan to instant Rudolph red. and then I usually have to pee a lot.

these feelings come when I am doing the thing I fear. but that isn’t the worst feeling. it’s the feeling before I take action that stunts, hinders, and freezes me.

when I went to launch my website, for months I had been terrified. terrified of taking action to sit down and build something that is my own because of the fear of what others will think of me. how they will judge my life. my experience. me.

I grew up in a school environment where I never felt like I fit in. I was the kid that ate in the counseling center because I felt more comfortable at a table with a couple people than in a room with a lot of other people who were loud and not afraid to be themselves. or so afraid to be themselves that was their response system was loud and boisterous. in fact, I limited myself so much in high school that I couldn’t talk to boys. this came from my trauma with the only man who had been in my life. I was one of the most awkward people I knew. I didn’t feel like I fit into any group or clique of people. I felt like this bystander. so when I did choose to put myself out there, it was terrifying.

I took an acting class in high school and did a couple monologues that were rather grotesque and maybe a little more adult than I was ready for. one was this Lily Tomlin monologue of a homeless woman. she was far older than I really could have been to play this character, but something about it spoke to me. I got to be a little crazy. I got to be silly. I got to let a little bit of me out. it was the one place I could. and I was actually recognized for it.

the next monologue I explicitly remember was some random one I found online with this girl who shat her pants on a date or something. this should have been humiliating. and when my teacher asked if I was sure this was what I wanted to do, I told her yes. looking back, I realize she may have been trying to protect me from the passive abusive words of other high school students, but I’m proud of that younger version of me to stick to her guns and keep going with something she was so sure about. I performed my heart out in that monologue, made a room of people I had been in school with for four years laugh hysterically, and felt really good about myself by the end.

the last one was an assignment. we were to write our own monologues. I took myself back to a place where I was just twelve years old and my dad was leaving for the first time that I knew of. this monologue was heartbreaking because it was true. it was my thoughts and my feelings. it was my pain and hurt. it was my truth and my experience. not everyone in the room may have known that, but there were a few people who did. as I stood up, with shaking courage to perform, I sobbed through nearly the whole thing. we’ll call it a therapeutic experience. when I finished, the room was silent. I let that room of people feel a weight they hadn’t been expecting and again, I opened up a part of myself that I had been hiding away.

I look back at that girl, and I am so proud. because as afraid as that girl was, she was also fearless. in moments of what could have been embarrassment and shame, she owned her choices and decisions and she just did. she stopped caring for those few minutes and made moments that would last forever for her.

today, I struggle to find that piece of me at times. I struggle to really just do without thinking everything out first. it’s the thinking everything out piece that stops me from completing and finishing (or starting) the tasks and projects I want to do and accomplish.

if you have been in this place. if you have been sitting in this place of fear to do something you have wanted to do for far too long. or say something you have been aching to say. if you have let the projection of your own judgment onto other people toward yourself dictate your life, take a breath. hold your own hand. tell yourself it’s okay. and then just do it. don’t think, just do.

fear can’t stop you if you lean into it. fear can’t stop you if you make the active choice to be brave. fear can’t stop you if you walk forward as yourself. fear will not limit you. not anymore. and when it does, offer yourself kindness and grace because you are worthy of that and much, much more.

Love Always,

Riss