"I’m with it. I’m hip.” - Dr. Evil
Ok, so I took a Facebook quiz that declared me old. With all due respect, dear meme makers, ya wrong.
“I’m hip. I’m with it.”
(Insert impression of Dr. Evil’s Macarena dance here.) (Wait…do young people even know who Dr. Evil is?) (Or heard the Macarena?)
Anyway, I digress.
44 is the new 24. Just because I’ve used a rotary phone, inserted a floppy disk into my IBM, and I once placed a two-for-one order for the soundtracks to Pretty Woman and Romeo and Juliet (Leo!!!) from Colombia House… that all means absolutely nothing.
I’m still quite young, thank you very much.
On the other hand, I have lived enough years to learn a few things here and there – and here’s one piece of advice I’ll offer any young whippersnappers who care to listen.
Ready for it? Here it is:
Ask. Just ask.
You see, in my 40s, there is one thing I will no longer do. I will not stew for days, letting my mind get the best of me. I will not replay conversations in my head for weeks on end, wondering if I’ve misunderstood something I should have heard, said or done differently. I will not write my own, crazy internal narrative without first trying to understand the other perspective.
This is where I draw the line.
If I find myself wondering…
…“did she really mean it that way?”
… “was he implying something else?”
… “are they all whispering about me?”
… “have I said something or done wrong?”
or even “Do I have something in my teeth?”
…I don’t keep wondering for long. At the earliest opportunity, I will stop and “just ask” for clarification. I ask things like…
“I feel like I’ve offended you. Was it something I said?”
“For some reason, it felt awkward when I walked into the room. Did I miss something?”
“When you said __________, I took it to mean __________. Is that what you were trying to say?”
Somewhere in my 30s, I decided I would no longer waste my worry, my relationships or my time reading between the lines—especially when half the page is missing.
Yeah, so I got 22 out of 24. That means NOTHING!
More often than not, when I “just ask,” I discover that, in fact, I wasn’t seeing the full picture. At times, I misunderstood, or sometimes the person was distracted by other life circumstances. Asking the awkward question allowed me to see the situation in a new light and to clear the air long before it became a barrier to the relationship.
Other times, my intuition was right on the money.
In those cases, by asking clarifying questions, I calmly and respectfully communicate I’m unwilling to tolerate or ignore shady conversations and manipulative behaviors. I communicate that I can forgive, and I will show grace, but I will not be a doormat or an accomplice to hurting others. My “just ask” questions make a statement: “I see what you did there, and it’s not okay.”
Is it a little cringe to “just ask”? Absolutely. In fact, it’s sometimes downright scary. TBH, I still slip back into my adolescent mind games every now and then. However, I can tell you from experience, it gets a little easier every time you “just ask” the clarifying question.
Take it from a not-so-old un-boomer lady like me: the reward is worth the risk.
I don’t have time to waste on worry, and neither do you. No cap, let’s spend the years we’ve got left focusing on what’s real versus the lies our minds want to tell us. We’ve got to #slaytheday while we still can.
After all, we’ll all be old before we know it.
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