I had a discussion the other day with a potential editor, and while she was pleasant and respectful, the conversation didn’t go the way I expected. Cue the story: But I don’t want to approach the project that way. I’ll never find anyone to help me. I’ll never write that book. I’ll never fulfill that dream.

Sound familiar? Maybe you go on a date, and the other person doesn’t seem interested. Or a client is stoic and doesn’t seem to warm up to you. And you make the discomfort and disinterest about you.

My date last night should have been perfect – we have so much in common. But he seemed bored. Kept checking his phone. It’s me. He didn’t find me attractive. I knew I should have Botox-ed those crow’s feet. I was too quiet. I should have been more conversational. The blouse was all wrong. Not enough cleavage.

Or:

That was the best work I’ve ever done. But the client barely said thank you. They must have found something wrong. What did I miss? They don’t like me. Now they’ll be looking for another agency. I’ll lose the account. I may lose my job!

And on and on. Before long, we’ve lost confidence, and we’ve become hopeless and depressed.

But what if we were to stop the story before it got rolling? Instead of the long-drawn out self-flagellation, the conversation goes something like this:

I expected my date last night to go much differently, given our common interests. But I just didn’t feel any alignment with him. Time to move on.

I know I did a great job on that project. Not sure what was going on with the client that day. If I need to follow up I will, but in the meantime, I’m going to continue to expect future work, which I will execute with my usual impeccable standards.

Period, end of story (literally).

Doesn’t that feel different? More freeing?

We don’t always get to choose who we interact with.  But we do get to choose whether we activate the story.