The moment I start to think about doing something new (and mostly important) – a whole squad of expectations bursts onto the scene (like Micah Richards did many times), setting up camp in my head before I have even taken a single step. My brain hitches a ride on a time machine, races into the future, designs the “perfect” outcome and then presents it to me as the only acceptable reality.
And me? I am still back here, figuring out which foot to put forward first. Such self-imposed blueprints with vivid imaginings of how things should go arrive so fully formed that any actual action feels… insufficient. Why must I try if I can see how it will not measure up to the impossible ideal I have conjured? It is a strange kind of pre-emptive failure. The irony is not lost on me – the desire to do something well stops me from doing anything.
How I must unfreeze is still a work in progress. I do acknowledge these expectations and how helpful they can be. But I am yet to understand how I must process my emotions. Easier said than done, of course, but I am trying.
