The first date my husband and I went on was to see Pulp Fiction at the cinema. He quickly realised I’m not good with the scary bits!

I spent most of the film with my face pressed into his shoulder and my fingers in my ears (miraculously we’re still together nearly 30 years later).

I’m still not great with anticipatory fear on screen. I close my eyes. I block my ears. I find it really hard to watch.

And it can affect life off screen too. Fear of what might be - the unknown - can often slow me down and keep me stuck.

And yet…

“Do you find yourself contrasting how someone else’s life looks on the outside, with how yours feels on the inside?

Can it feel as though everyone else is doing it ‘better’?

Is compare and despair an easy trap for you to fall into?

Me too. My inner critic absolutely loves to jump into this place.

A snapshot of someone else’s life can bring up a whole lot of stuff for many of us. Especially if it lands in a tender spot.

This was brought to life for me recently - but from the other side of the experience…

A few weeks ago I was writing an email and found myself comparing two slightly different versions.

Which was better?

Was there a magically perfect version to be created by combining them?

What would be the best one that would make the biggest difference?

And then I caught myself. Or not me, but my inner perfectionist who loves to get her magnifying glass out and scrutinise the smallest of details.

We have two paths down to the cabin at the end of our garden. Can you spot them?

There’s the one we want everyone to take…

… and the one the dog has created all on his own by hurling himself down the garden.

He does this when he desperately needs to assess the situation and combat any threats to our borders. He’s on autopilot.

Funnily enough he trots back down on the ‘official one’, when he’s calm and relaxed and has everything under control.

We all have these types of automatic reactions, but often they’re not as easy to spot!

I’m having a lot of coaching conversations about uncertainly at the moment.

About how to navigate through it at a time of restructures, changing circumstances, and other unknowns, as well as how to help others navigate through it too.

One of the main questions has been how to start a conversation about it, in a way that’s useful.

And how to hold the worry of other people while you’re also holding your own.

I’ve been pulling out The Huge Bag of Worries by Virginia Ironside, and sharing the wisdom within it as a useful tool to explore.

A few months ago, I booked a hotel and went away for the night.

Just me.

I walked there, took chocolate and a good book, and did nothing except relax, read and be in my own company.

I don’t think I said a word for hours.

It was a wonderful treat. It felt indulgent and exciting (and maybe a little weird?).

And it was EXACTLY what I needed.

Are you kind and compassionate, and see the learning for next time?

Or…

Do you beat yourself up for getting it wrong?

Ruminate on all the reasons people will think less of you?

Go over and over all the things you could (should) have done to avoid it in the first place?