The Freelancer’s Self-Assessment Guide (or what I learned from a week in the woods)

To say it was a good week away would be a stretch. It was relaxing. It was necessary. But it was full of memories and, for me, tears.

Maybe the decision to head to the cottage in Ontario right after a memorial for my father wasn’t the best idea. It was all too raw yet.

Maybe just being in that place — our place — was the problem.

What the time away did afford me was time to reflect on who I am, where I’ve come from, where I’m heading. Self-reflection and the freelance writer is never a bad thing, even if it opens up old wounds.

I highly recommend self-reflection as an exercise all freelance writers should go through. If you do it right, it’s going to bring up the bad stuff. But it brings up good stuff, too.

Here are my truths, and what I’ve learned from them:

Old ghosts never die.

I faced more than a few spirits these past few weeks — some dating back to my pre-teen and teen years. I faced the same insecurities I struggled with then — fear of looking foolish, fear of the manipulating effect some people had on me, my thoughts of not being good enough… it was all there. I surprised myself when I came to the realization that what was bugging me was rooted in those exact insecurities I thought I’d overcome.

What I’ve learned: I don’t have to care. Seriously. I don’t. While back in my teenaged years it was all about not being ridiculed, the adult me doesn’t have to care about ridicule. Will it still come? Sure. There’s always someone out there insistent on putting you down or digging at you for one reason or another. My happiness, however, no longer depends on validation from others. I like me, and I like the decisions I’ve made in my life. That someone else may feel the need to push their opinions on me isn’t my issue — it would be theirs. When I thought about that point last week, I felt instantly freed of weight that didn’t belong to me.

Competition needs two participants. And only if you want it.

See, part of my insecurities used to be that I’d be “losing” something if I didn’t play by someone else’s rules. I spent way too much time trying to answer like for like. In the end, I would always end up sounding — and being — in defensive mode.

What I’ve learned: I never need to answer to another person’s competitive nature. Ever. If I’m faced with someone who wants to put me down in order to build themselves up, so what? Who looks most foolish if I choose to ignore the challenge? Who looks most adult? I simply won’t play. I don’t have to.

Venting to anyone other than the one who wrongs you doesn’t work.

I could spout off plenty about people who have hurt me, insulted me, or somehow done me wrong in my life. I could tell the world, get myself worked up, and keep the anger going for a long, long time.

What I’ve learned: Or I could tell them and spare you. Recently, I’ve started telling people directly when they have done something to offend me or hurt me. In one case, it was a Facebook friend. We ended things well, though we will never agree on what I find offensive and what he does not. It’s okay, though. He knows why I can no longer have him in my Facebook feed, and we parted on friendly terms. For me, that ends my upset with him. That’s how I want to handle most interactions — honestly, frankly, and with kindness for the other person.

Accepting bad behavior nets more of the same.

I thank my lucky stars that I took a coaching course from Anne Wayman last year. Lately, I’ve reflected more on the bad behavior that seems to often darken my doorstep. People saying whatever they want to me, my feelings be damned. Strangers approaching me with inappropriate words or actions. People I love choosing dismissive statements that are meant to be funny but aren’t. That kind of cyclical behavior is something I unwittingly invite in.

What I’ve learned: I’m able to stop it by changing how I present myself. I don’t have to smile at strangers to be polite. I don’t have to respond to them when they attempt to interact inappropriately. I can practice my “Don’t f*ck with me” aura and confidence. I can refuse to respond when someone tries drawing me in to an insult-for-insult banter situation. I can simply tell someone they’re acting inappropriately, too. I won’t die if I confront someone tactfully and assertively.

I don’t need to feel inferior.

This isn’t a huge issue for me these days, but occasionally, I do run up against my old history of feeling inadequate (see my “old ghosts never die” point). I realized within the past 12 days, that sometimes my feelings of inferiority are a case of my overactive imagination and my own insecurities. Those ghosts do come back for visits, though rarely anymore, and it’s as though there are certain people and situations that put me right back on my heels and make me feel like I’ve never progressed.

What I’ve learned: Looking back includes looking through the accomplishments as well as the inadequacies. I’m focusing more on what I’ve done in my life that I’m proud of — things I’ve done on my own. Things that tell me inferiority is not my concern. That plus a healthy dose of knowing I’m strong enough to survive quite a lot kicks inferior feelings right out the door.

Love can’t die.

I had any number of meltdowns during my week in Ontario. I couldn’t quite pin down a cause, but I kind of knew anyway — he wasn’t there. I was missing my father as I would miss my right side. I couldn’t enjoy myself. Not yet. Maybe not ever. I was adrift.

What I’ve learned: Mourning takes time. The memories will always be there, and over time, I hope they stop stinging so badly. If not, it’s okay to cry my eyes out every time I’m in that cottage or on that river. I give myself permission right now, in fact.

So how can you apply this type of assessment to yourself?

• Right now, jot down at least three areas of your life in which you often find yourself stuck in the same rut.
• Take one of those points. Ponder it. Spend time with it over the next few days, and find out what upsets you most about it. When does it get to you? Is there someone else involved? How do you feel when it occurs?
• Think about your own reaction. How are you typically responding? How can you change that? Ideally, what would you do differently?
• Spend a few more days thinking of what a different response (or lack of one, as the case may be) could change how you feel. How do you want to feel? What can you do to empower yourself to feel that way?
• Repeat with the other points.

Writers, what things in your life repeat? How are they impacting you?

Do they appear in your work life and personal life? If not, why not?