A Short List of 15
- Jess
- 3 days ago
- 6 min read
Look at that. I didn't have a massive crashout on my blog. Yay! But to be clear, it's not because things have gotten better. It's more acceptance and moving forward. Still vague (ish) posting until I can actually say what is going on. But here's this year's bday post, I suppose.
This is more of a short list than an actual deep dive into anything: fifteen things I've learned in the past year (or the past ten). To prevent this from becoming too long, I'm keeping this as simple as possible with either a sentence or a short explanation. I recognize a lot of these are more nuanced than I go into, and I may revisit them later in some other post, but more time will probably need to pass before then.
Honesty, more than any other value, is now cemented forever and always in the top slot. I have pretty strong feelings about this and will leave it at that for now.
My opinion matters too, and I shouldn't have to endlessly explain why it has to matter even if someone doesn't share or understand it. I deserve to be taken just as seriously as them. I shouldn’t have to justify what I think/feel/want or keep repeating it to the point of exhaustion and still feel like I’m failing at being heard or believed. It’s invalidating, patronizing, and ignores my own autonomy.
Stupid gratitude lists work.
Everyone has limits. I know better what mine are now.
I'm more adventurous than I realized. I like chilling on the couch and doomscrolling for the occasional weekend, but I get restless and bored after too many in a row. I like to find something to do, and traveling, exploring, and seeing new places are some of those things I like now more than when I was younger.
Self-reliance is important for everyone. Being able to earn an income is freedom and power over your own life in many ways.
Trust my gut.
True humility is underrated and rare. A lot of people would rather choke on their own pride.
People make mistakes, and forgiveness is important—but not to the point of self-sacrifice.
Money is important. But I really do believe it is the love of money that is the root of all evil. It can also be used to control or give a person a sense of power (both real and imagined). I think it reveals character. How someone prioritizes money tells you a lot about them and what they value. I’ve seen this a lot with so many people I know, both positively and negatively.
I firmly believe people should matter more—every time.
Impact is greater than intent.
Apologizing is freaking hard for everyone. And in my opinion, a good apology acknowledges the other person’s pain while excluding the word ‘but’ in it. But or however invalidates every good thing said up to that point. No: “I know I hurt you. I’m really sorry, but I was [insert emotion or situation]…” That’s not an apology. That’s being defensive and refocusing back onto myself while pretending that’s not exactly what I’m doing. I should probably try again. I can offer an explanation for my behavior, but it doesn’t excuse what I did. Explanations are to provide context if the other person wants to hear it, but they aren’t required. And if I'm hurt too, and it needs to be addressed, then it can be, but it is a different conversation and not part of an apology. And if I fail and end up using those words, I hope people call me out on it too. And if someone botches an apology with me, I’ll either let it slide or give them a second chance to get it right. I get it. It’s easy to slip and get defensive.
Words only matter when actions consistently match them. Otherwise, they mean absolutely nothing.
There are two types of people when they get angry and lash out. The first says whatever they can to hurt the other person, even if they are exaggerating or don’t mean it. The second are those who say what they really think and mean every word, even if it comes out harsher than intended. Knowing which kind someone else is—and which one I am—is useful (I tend to “mean every word” type).
Know my strengths and pitfalls and how to work on them. (There are definitely more than just these.)
My biggest defense mechanism in conflict is I am a fantastic stonewaller when I feel like there is no hope that I’m going to be listened to. While it’s not my first reaction to conflict, it is my worst way of handling it. I don't give the silent treatment, but I will go quiet and stop opening up or saying what's wrong. I will emotionally wall myself off because if they’re not curious about my side, why bother? I’m not being listened to anyway. I just let the other person talk while I wait for the conversation to end. I'm improving and doing that less. I'm proud of that.
I can ruminate in circles and let my anxiety run the show if I don't actively prevent it.
I don't think I'm selfish, but I can absolutely be self-absorbed. I have to be mindful of that and self-correct when I notice it happening.
I normally talk about how I feel up until a certain point. I’ve learned that I self-isolate and withdraw when I’m really upset or deeply struggling. I need to do a better job of reaching out to those who are willing to listen and be there. I have to trust them when they say I’m not bothering them or being too much, and that is sometimes incredibly hard to do or believe.
Some strengths:
It’s easier for me to list my faults and a little harder to remember the positive. Like, I might not be bubbly but I am good at sitting with hard emotions, both my own and other people's. They don’t bother me at all and my capacity, while not endless, is considerably higher than average. I don’t get uncomfortable by them. Vent, cry, hate, complain, rant, rage, or whatever else away. I don’t get scared off.
There are benefits to being an overthinker. It allows me to view a situation from an exhausting number of angles. It also lets me better understand other people's perspectives or why they might behave the way they do. It also makes me aware that because there are so many possibilities, that I likely don’t know the truth of which one unless I talk to them. And sometimes, I get to be both annoyed and surprised by finding out I didn’t think of one.
And a mix of both:
I have been described as “intense.” One of my friends pointed out that it gets a bad wrap. She's intense too, but in a different way than me. She's a powerhouse. You don't mess with her. She is self-aware of how she comes across, and knows how to use her strengths to get what she wants. I admire that about her. She can be intense in her presence, while I can be more intense with my emotions.
It used to bother me. Being told you're too intense isn't always fun to hear. But I think I've definitely mellowed out and learned how to get a better handle on them than when I was younger. And I think I've also learned better by what my friend meant when she said my type of intensity gets a bad wrap.
When I'm upset, sad, angry…whatever, it can be a lot, even if I don't get that way often, it's what people will remember. But I've also been told, “wow, you're really excited,” and then watch them be amused by me bouncing in place like a kid because I can't wait.
When I’ve been really happy, that's been commented on too. I'm a little more intense than most when I express myself, whatever that strong emotion might be, and that includes the positive ones too. But people tend to dismiss the positive in general, and will usually remember the more negative.
I'm not a mope or a hot head. The majority of the time I tend to be even tempered. But when things aren't baseline, no matter the direction, I tend to do it with some degree of ‘big’ or ‘intense’, and that's ok. Sometimes being dramatic isn’t always bad. Sometimes it's amusing and fun. I just kinda wish people would see the positive side of it a little more often like I'm trying to do.
And that's it. Too much happened in the past year (or decade) to write more than a list, or it would have ended up being a ten-part monster of a series.