You and I may jointly find it laughable that at some point in 2017, I scrawled on an index card a new hard and fast rule: don’t be thirsty.
Like many of my life/career lessons, this one came during a phone date with one of my dear friends, writer/director/producer/Miyazaki fan Jo-Dean (@jodeanroark), as she recalled the feeling we get when we are at an event and feel simultaneously obligated and desirous of meeting/networking with certain people. And when I have met said person, they stare blankly at me, look over my head, try to escape, or say something incredibly condescending/sexist/racist etc.
I’ve learned two things:
- Show up anyway! to the rooms I want to be in, claim the rooms as equally my own because this is my industry/career/place of work and I belong, and
- Meet everyone, treat everyone well, know that I won’t and don’t have to like everyone or work with everyone, politely and swiftly and me-ly meet those people who will stare at me blankly, and know inside that one day or probably never they’ll realize my value, and that’s totally fine!
Because we all matter and I don’t need them to see that (as frustrating it is to not be taken seriously).
Be thirsty in chasing what I need to learn and grow, be thirsty in chasing and embracing and seizing and creating and living out my opportunities, but don’t be thirsty in needing anyone to see my value, because that creates an implied need within myself that I need them in some way, and I don’t. I need myself, to stand on my own feet, to value me for me, to honor my work with hard work and excellence, and to love and respect people around me and pay it forward beyond as much as I think I can.
And for the people who stared over my head, petty Nida will one day be like, “Yeah bitch, I was here the whole time, you just didn’t have the vision to see me. But also jk bc having someone force their acquaintance on you is weird / there’s alot of creepy weird people out there / you’re probably a covert introvert who hates overly familiar strangers / you’re human and trying to comprehend my relevance, and its nice to know you now.”
I’ve been focusing on being mindful with my social media presence, and noticed I was feeling some feelings during yesterday’s scrolls, not unrelated to Forbes 30 Under 30 list being published. And not unrelated to me trying to understand my relationship goals for Instagram follower numbers.
In contrast to my new “look but with love” feels, yesterday, I was feeling… kind of crappy, hopeless, helpless, worried, comparativ-y. Continue reading The Impact we want to have
For years I’ve struggled with a toxic relationship with being online. A lovely friend and I recently both shared this realization that we can feel when our being online turns from good/healthy/beneficial to pure toxic. The ironic indicator is the moment we’ve scrolled over something and didn’t like it. A switch has happened in my mind at that point and I’ve gone from appreciating something someone has shared to judging/being critical/haterating/being jealous.
So. I made this beautiful saying a social media rule for myself. Look, but with love. The moment I find myself scrolling and hating, either renew my intentions/sense of purpose, or simply sign off. No need to actively channel negative emotions through myself and into the world. I’ve found it to be a helpful rule.
I did just spend 20 minutes keeping up with Kim Kardashian’s instagram (and didn’t like any of her photos because I’m not trying to leave a footprint), so I’m not saying I’ve become an instagram saint or something. But rethinking how I’m going to internalize photos / what kind of energy I want to generate because of them and toward them, and just allowing myself to exit when I can’t, has been a helpful thing.
I’ll write about why I’ve been such a hater some other time, because it took me quite a bit of unpacking to figure out why I felt the way I did in the first place.
New rule for myself, because I’ve been going crazy. Inspired by Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Big Magic: The Art of Creative Living. Criticalness can be heavy, negative, tiring, isolating. Curiosity can be light, inquisitive, loving, connecting.