I’m Learning That Not Everything Deserves a Reaction

The other day I was standing in the grocery store trying to pick out a pineapple.

That's it.

That was the mission.

I wasn't having some deep moment of self-discovery. I wasn't thinking about life. I wasn't trying to heal anything.

I wanted a pineapple.

Now, I don't know who decided picking a good pineapple needed to be this complicated, but there I was looking at one, checking the color, pulling on one of the little leaves because somebody once told me that's how you know if it's ripe...

Basically pretending I knew exactly what I was doing. 😂

Then my phone buzzed.

I looked at it.

And immediately thought:

Oh, here we go.

It was one of those messages where you already know, before you even finish reading it, that somebody wants a reaction out of you.

Normally?

I would've given them one.

Right there between the pineapples and the bananas.

I Used to Think Everything Needed a Response

You said something crazy?

I'm responding.

You sent me a paragraph?

Oh, you're getting a paragraph back.

You misunderstood me?

Let me explain.

You told somebody something about me that wasn't true?

Now I need to clear that up too.

And don't let me see a Facebook post that I know is about me.

Now I'm looking at my phone like:

Do I have time today?

And apparently, for many years, the answer was yes. 😂

But standing there in that grocery store, I looked at the message.

Then I looked at my pineapple.

And for whatever reason...

The pineapple won.

I put my phone back in my purse.

Not Responding Felt Weird

Seriously.

When you're used to defending yourself, explaining yourself or correcting things immediately, silence can almost feel like you're letting somebody get away with something.

My brain was already preparing the response.

No, because what you're NOT going to do is...

You know how it goes.

I had the opening statement ready.

Probably the closing arguments too.

But then I thought:

What happens if I just don't?

Does the earth stop spinning?

Do the lights in the grocery store go out?

Does somebody come over the intercom and announce:

“Attention shoppers: Erica did not respond. Please evacuate immediately.”

No.

Nothing happened.

I bought my pineapple and went home.

I Don't Need the Last Word as Much Anymore

Now let's be clear.

I like the last word.

I'm not going to sit here and lie to y'all. 😂

There's something satisfying about having that one final sentence that wraps everything up perfectly.

But I'm learning that having the last word and having peace aren't always the same thing.

Sometimes the last word creates another word.

Then another.

Then another.

Now something that could've ended at 2:15 is still going at 7:42.

You've sent screenshots to your friend.

You've replayed the conversation four times.

You've written a response, deleted it, rewritten it and added a paragraph you know you probably shouldn't send.

Meanwhile, the person you're arguing with might be somewhere eating dinner.

And you're still mad.

Who actually won there?

Everybody Doesn't Need an Explanation

This one has been harder for me.

I like for people to understand where I'm coming from.

If somebody misunderstands my intentions, my first instinct is usually to explain.

And sometimes that's necessary.

Communication matters.

But I've also learned that some people aren't asking for an explanation because they want to understand you.

They want to argue with your explanation.

That's different.

You explain yourself.

They challenge it.

So you explain it another way.

They challenge that too.

Now you're 45 minutes into a conversation trying to convince somebody that you meant what you already told them you meant.

At some point...

Okay.

Believe what you want.

Social Media Makes It Even Harder

Social media has convinced us that everything deserves a response.

Somebody disagrees with you?

Respond.

Somebody leaves a rude comment?

Respond.

Somebody posts something shady?

Now you need to post something slightly shadier without using their name. 😂

Then they post again.

Then your friend sends you the screenshot even though you already saw it.

Now everybody is involved.

And for what?

Half the time, two days later, nobody even cares anymore.

I'm learning that sometimes the most powerful thing I can do with my phone is...

put it down.

Revolutionary, I know.

Now, Silence Isn't Always the Answer

I don't want anybody reading this and thinking I've suddenly become some peaceful woman floating through life whispering:

“I choose not to engage.”

Let's not get carried away. 😂

There are absolutely situations where I'm going to speak up.

If I need to establish a boundary, I'll establish it.

If something affects my work, family, money or reputation in a meaningful way, I'm addressing it.

If somebody I care about and I need to have an uncomfortable conversation, I'm having it.

Choosing your battles doesn't mean you stop having battles.

It means you stop showing up for every invitation to one.

That's the difference I'm learning.

Now I Ask Myself One Question

Before I respond, I'm trying to ask myself:

What happens after I send this?

Does it solve something?

Does it clarify something?

Does it protect a boundary?

Does it move the conversation forward?

Or am I sending it because I want them to know they didn't get the last word?

Because if it's that last one...

Maybe I can go do something else.

Drink some coffee.

Watch something.

Write.

Take a nap.

Buy another pineapple.

Anything. 😂

My Attention Is Valuable Too

I used to think protecting my peace meant avoiding conflict.

I don't believe that anymore.

Sometimes peace requires an uncomfortable conversation.

Sometimes you have to say no.

Sometimes you have to correct something.

Sometimes you have to walk away.

But I'm also realizing that my attention is valuable.

Everybody doesn't automatically get it.

Every comment doesn't get it.

Every text doesn't get it.

Every opinion about me doesn't get it.

And every misunderstanding doesn't need to become my emergency.

I'm still learning this.

Trust me, there are still moments when my fingers are ready.

I'll type the whole response.

Look at it.

Read it again.

Add a little something because apparently it wasn't spicy enough the first time. 😂

Then I'll stare at the Send button.

And sometimes...

I delete it.

Not every time.

I'm still in training.

But more than I used to.

And maybe that's progress.

Oh—and in case you're wondering...

The pineapple was good.

So apparently I knew what I was doing after all. 😂