It’s not you, it’s me.
"It's not you, it's me."
This was the narrative I learned about breaking up in the late 90s early 00s. It was the storyline of popular films and the allegedly “kind way” to let someone know that a relationship isn’t working while avoiding confrontation or honest conversation. But really, it was you. Or at least between the you and me there's always an us that makes (or breaks) a relationship. What’s the other saying? “It takes two to tango.” Yup, that one. I’m not here to talk about grade-school breakups or heartbreak. Yet I do have some thoughts on breaking up with your brain. Yes, your brain.
That magical mysterious thing. The command center of your life. The organ that allows us to do all the proper physical functions like breathe and see but also creates our existence as individuals. Good at so many things. Mostly keeping us alive, keeping us safe. Unfortunately, at times, its penchant for surviving can be the same exact obstacle keeping us from thriving.
Let me tell you: It’s not you, it’s your brain.
As a mindset coach and a fellow human with an overly active, anxious brain (you’re not alone), I know that how we exist has a lot to do with learned thought patterns. Remember the first time touching a hot stove? Ya, we learned to back away reallll fast. Remember the first time feeling heartbreak? (OK, I said I wasn't going to get into it, but here it is). That hurts too. And damned if your brain will let you forget that. Your brain has a lot of power to decide what works and what doesn't.
Good news, brains can be trained. More good news, it's not easy but it's worth it. Even better news, you aren't alone.
I’ve been having a lot of fantastic conversations on this subject of the real and the imagined and the (destructive?) power of our brains lately. But I’ll start with my favorite.
My dad. Adorable. Amazing guy. Eats a lot of potato chips. Loves boats. Master MacGyver and jury-rigger (not to be confused with jerry-rigger...but honestly I'm still confused). In case you didn’t know, he spent 15 days straight in my apartment in Sicily last month. Like many dads, he loves to give a helping hand. Like many dads, his help isn’t always needed.
The first morning after his arrival, I open my door into the kitchen, sleep-ridden, still in pajamas. Mind you, for the past two months my morning routine had been wake up, 20 minutes of yoga in silence, coffee and breakfast, and no contact with the outside world until at least 10 am. It wasn't even 8 am. He’d been up three hours already. (I know because I could hear him shuffling around in the kitchen.)
“Henna,” he says. “Do you need help with anything around the house?”
“No, thanks Dad. I’m good.” (Aka: I will be good when you stop asking me things before I've had time to wake up.)
The back story being that my dad typically visits me twice a year to "escape" from his exhausting life of snorkeling and lounging on the tropical island of Bali. Due to the pandemic, he hadn't left Bali or visited me in more than a year. This was his time. The thing he had been waiting for. The situation he wanted. Italy! Coffee! Potato Chips! Gelato! His two adult daughters under the same roof! All of his favorite things! He didn't have to do a thing..
And yet, he wants something to fix. (I know, I know. He's a good dad!)
Too bad I didn't have anything.
Don't worry, he had clearly made up his mind to find something.
That day, he broke my shower head. (By accident, but also maybe not.) The next day he dropped my sink strainer over the balcony onto the unreachable roof. And consequently broke the broom trying to retrieve it. He almost tried to adjust the hot water heater which I finally got working after a year in the apartment, but I nipped that in the bud.
The whole time, the brain is creating this story: “Oh, it feels good to fix things. But there’s nothing to fix! But I want to feel good. So how can I fix something? Got it! I’ll create the problems! Amazing. I’m so smart. I'll make me feel so good!”
Most people settle with imagining worst-case scenarios to worry about, my dad managed to manifest them to life. A true Zen master.
Other recent conversations have been in a similar vein: a dear friend creating a whole narrative of aggression and jealousy from an innocuous Instagram comment. A lovely client who is doing everything right manages to create a whole host of problems around a situation that is at least three months out and not even yet confirmed. A friend who has finally arrived where she wants to arrive (a sabbatical from work, a tropical island, a stable relationship) and the brain has imaged all the possible problems that keep her from enjoying the lovely now due to the potentially unsafe then.
And of course, you have me as your ever so conscientious role model. Living my best life in Napoli. Getting to explore a new city. Meeting up with friends. Going swimming. Yet don’t let that stop me staying up at night thinking (worrying) about everything from, “Will I be warm enough on the plane with short socks or should I wear long socks?” to "What if borders in Italy close back up?" to “What can we really do about microplastics in the ocean?"
Here’s when that famous break-up line comes in handy. It’s not you, it’s me.
In this case, you and me are the same. There’s you, and then there's your brain. There’s the you you know you can be, the you you want to be, the you that knows how to be safe without worry, secure without fear, confident without shame, strong without a doubt, and there’s the brain, that just wants to keep you safe. That wants you to know that you have overcome so much already, and you will overcome so much more. That’s why it's up there creating problems for you. Replicating situations you have survived. Like, look, this is safe! We did it once, we will do it again! Let's make things difficult because that's what we know and love! Let's create the problem so we can have the fix! Heaven forbid we let anything be easy.
Maybe it's time to breathe deep and say, "Brain I love you. Brain I trust you. But brain, it's not you, it's me. And you are part of me. So I'm letting go. This relationship isn't working. Right now, I just want to be. I want to learn to feel comfortable, safe, confident, strong without worry, without problems. You are amazing at helping me survive. Now I will thrive. I will let go of thinking that I need something to fix to feel good. I will choose to feel good, and be me, without worry. I will accept where I am right now, and let go of thinking I don't deserve this moment of calm. Thanks for the thoughts, but no thanks."
At the end of the day, we're in this together (with our brains and with each other). I'm so curious to hear what stories your brain is creating that you're ready to distance yourself from. I'd love to know how you can complement your brain for its hard work but also set a firm boundary. I'd be happy to hear what works for you when it comes to breaking up with your brain.
As always, I'm here, sending sunshine and saltwater your way (the most magical of combinations!),
Henna
PS: I was just thinking about how when we’re younger it is basically a parent’s job and right to embarrass their children. Well, now I get to share candidly about my dad and how he bought an extendable plastic claw to try to reach the sink strainer on the roof but it fell under the balcony so he couldn't see it so he tried to use his cellphone to video underneath with one hand and direct his claw with the other. It didn't work. My sister retrieved the strainer. Thanks Dad for today's Tuesday inspiration.