“You can’t talk to Mike like that,” I said into my friend’s cherry-red Razor flip-phone.
“What are you going to do about it, p***y?” Aaron said from the other end.
The backstory isn’t too important; Aaron was pretty headstrong and wasn’t happy when I told him not to verbally abuse our mutual friend, Mike. Instead of avoiding a confrontation, I chose to show him that I wouldn’t be intimidated. Twenty minutes later, he pushed me onto my back. I smiled up at Aaron like the Cheshire cat, letting him know that I wasn’t going to fight him. He had other plans. But, after a swift kick to the ribs, he could tell I wasn’t taking the bait.
He walked away, satisfied knowing that he had won a one-sided fight and that he had entertained the crowd at the park. I stood up and dusted myself off, satisfied by the sarcastic kiss I was blowing behind Aaron’s back. Mike was unscathed, which was pretty good because that wasn’t always how Aaron left him. It’s been fifteen or sixteen years since then. Mike and Aaron cross my mind often, but what I think about more is standing up after getting kicked and dusting myself off.
That’s what this blog is to me: getting up after getting kicked and dusting myself off. I’ve tried and failed at a handful of ventures. This will probably be my second or third attempt at a blog site. I’ve tried to start a business and did nothing with it, and I have seven or eight—yes, seven or eight—incomplete full-length novels sitting in my hard drive.
I’m not convinced that I have a problem sticking with things. I think I have a problem believing that they’ll pay off. That the effort will be worth it, that it won’t just end in silence, or disappointment, or indifference.
So I pause. I wait. I avoid. But here’s what I’ve come to understand: you can’t keep avoiding “it,” whatever “it” is. “It” might be a hard conversation. A business idea. A confession. A boundary you know you need to set. Or a truth about yourself that you’ve been carefully walking around for years.
Avoidance is a legitimate tool for handling conflict. In fact, it can be a good tactic to save your energy for the confrontations that truly matter. The trick is, we should know why we are avoiding something. Once we know why we are avoiding “it”, we can ask ourselves if we are okay with avoiding “it.” Are we okay with the missed opportunity? Or the hurt relationship?
Whatever “it” is, it doesn’t go away. It waits. Quietly. And avoidance feels like control until it starts to shape your life for you. Every time I didn’t follow through, it wasn’t because I didn’t care; it was because I did care. So much that it scared me. But at some point, you realize the fear of trying is no longer heavier than the fear of staying stuck.
So this is me trying. Starting again. Not because I know it will work, but because it matters that I try. And maybe you’re reading this because you’re circling your own “it.” Whatever it is, speak to it. Name it. Write the first sentence. Take the meeting. Send the message. Instead of avoiding the conflict, run straight at it with a crazed look in your eye.
You don’t have to fight your Aaron. But you do have to stand up and dust yourself off.
P.S. Aaron had plenty of things he was avoiding, too.