It was managing everyone else around the business.
“How’s it going?”
“What do you think this month will look like?”
“That must be really scary. I could never do that.”
Family. Clients. Trusted friends.
All framed as concern. But really? They wanted me to manage their nervous systems. And it was exhausting.
I only realized recently that I don’t have to do that.
I grew up thinking it was my job to keep everyone calm. To be the steady one. The reasonable one. The one who had it handled.
I got very good at it. So good that people commented on how calm I was.
I wasn’t. (Performative calm is absolutely a thing.)
During the day, I was mostly fine. At night, I woke up in a sweat. About the business. And about what I would say about the business.
How honest I could be.
Who I could actually help. Who I couldn’t. How many clients I needed. How close the math really was. What would happen if the math didn’t work out.
Same thoughts. Over and over and over.
Some of this is our human psychology. At night, fear runs the prison with no guards.
But a lot of it?
Optional.
When we are both present, I know I can help you. You know it too.
What you’re feeling isn’t confusion.
It’s just fear.
And the places you’re afraid to look?
That’s exactly where the work starts.