Whether you’re hiring for your business or welcoming someone into your personal life (like a housekeeper or caregiver) the stakes go far beyond what’s on a candidate’s résumé. Even if their experience looks like a perfect match on paper, you still can’t gauge someone’s character or integrity. After years of trial and error, I’ve learned how to recognize the people who genuinely belong.
Wearing something that says: “Don’t bother me” is like an invisible impenetrable force field that ensures lack of interaction… but without people in your life there cannot be feedback to help you grow and evolve. As human beings, we need each other. So when I see someone wearing essentially a sandwich board that screams “Don’t Bother Me,” I experience a wave of sadness…
How do you present yourself to the outside world? Personally, I used to hide my emotional pain and look normal enough. Professional, successful, measured. But behind that facade lived my wounded self.
This experiment is still in its early days – now in my 9th week, I’m fully immersed in what’s surfacing for me! My assignment is a full year – 52 weeks of paying attention, week by week, to the constant stream of self-judgment about my body and my face. And let me tell you, it’s eye-opening.
Panic and paralysis won’t save us as we flail around, trying to get out of the nightmare.
Imagine you’re standing at the edge of a stage, moments away from delivering a speech… Your palms are sweaty, your heart’s pounding, and your stomach is hosting a gymnastics competition. Are you anxious – or excited?
This body shaming thing is so insidious. Now, with my awareness in full gear, I see just how deep the self-shaming goes. The latest example was just last week when my executive assistant, Carsey, sent me a picture of myself and said, “Wow! I love this picture! Can we use it?” My response was immediate and visceral: “Old lady hand!” …shouting over our back-and-forth text messaging.
This is the 2nd week installment of my mission over 52 weeks (all of 2025) to uncover the countless ways I catch myself judging my appearance – or how I imagine others might judge me. This week: Thigh gap phobia. In earlier years, it use to be a morning ritual. I’d get out of bed, stand up, put my legs together and look down to see if I had “space” between my thighs – that coveted thigh gap.
Even though I just started documenting my awareness of the comparing and self-body shaming I do, I’m seeing that often my attention is focused on the figures of other women. Now that, in and of itself, is benign but it’s the cascade of thoughts associated with my observations.
I’ve had a strange compulsion since Trump won the White House – I’m drawn to dystopian films and series. And, at the same time, I find myself reflecting deeply on what can be done when faced with overwhelming societal challenges.