Strengths and weaknesses
I’m not exactly sure how to start this. I know what I want to say—at least I know how I feel—but I’m not sure if the words will do the feeling justice. One thing I’ve noticed is that I tend to write a lot when my emotions are heightened. Writing has always been my closest confidant. When I put my thoughts down on paper, it’s like I’m confirming that the event or emotion actually happened. It’s a way of preserving it, like yes, I went through this
Of course, there are times when I look back at my old writing and think, “What the hell was going on with me?”—or I cringe at the idea that it was me who wrote that. But that’s the beauty of growth, right? Right??? I hope you’re nodding
So, what does emotional ceiling mean, well, that’s a phrase I made up today. It probably already exists, but I’ll pretend I came up with it. For me, it’s about hitting a cap on emotions. Everyone has a point where they just can’t take anymore. It’s like when people say their “social battery” has run out. We can only handle so many emotions in a day or week before we hit a boiling point, where the lid flips, and we shut down. I think my emotional ceiling is pretty high—it takes a lot for me to hit that boiling point. But even the best of us fall now and then.
Hahaha!
Through all the yoga and meditation I do, I didn’t expect my lid to flip on me recently, but it did. So, what did I do, I went into defence mode, leaned on my ancestral tendency to become reclusive, and curled up like an embryo in the womb. I drowned out the noise with more noise, odd music and podcasts, and fell asleep, thinking, “Maybe when I wake up, all this shit will be gone.”
But, of course, it wasn’t. It was still there, looming over me like a vulture, waiting for its moment to strike. But I wasn’t ready to give in just yet. Yes, my system had shut down, but I’ve got backup generators—and one of them is writing.
So here I am, looking at this blog/podcast as a kind of therapist—a place where I can spill my thoughts. I know I can’t escape judgment; I mean after all, this is an open platform. You, the reader or listener, are my therapist. The first thing you’d ask me to better understand what I’m going through is probably, “Tell me about your strengths and weaknesses.”
And I here is what I will say…
I want to start with the weaknesses. I like to get them out of the way so I can climb on top of them and say, “I am crushing you ”
Weaknesses
- I love knowing people but hate being in crowds (introverted).
I think it’s called being introverted. So, this one’s for my fellow introverts—it’ll make sense. I love understanding people, analyzing them, sharing ideas, but I hate being around a lot of people for too long. Most people don’t believe I’m shy because my confidence betrays me. They see me in situations that demand assertiveness, and I’ve got plenty of that. But being confident doesn’t mean I’m not shy. My friends joke, “We need a new word for you to describe without saying you are shy,” I am still waiting on that word, but for now, it’s still ‘shy’ for me. Isolation is my comfort zone. Growing up, I was the kid sitting in the corner of the school with my music, avoiding the crowd. In a social setting, I can disappear in plain sight. I’d hear people say “Bro, you haven’t said anything”. I’m okay with talking one-on-one, but when it becomes a group thing, I surely can just dissolve into the background, like homer backing into the bushes. - I can give compliments, but I can’t take them.
I love complimenting others, and I never do it insincerely. When I say something nice, I mean it. But when someone compliments me, especially intentionally, I don’t know how to handle it. I retreat into a shell. I don’t mind making arrogant jokes about myself, but when someone else says something positive, it’s somehow uncomfortable, maybe that’s a bad word to use. It’s the attention, it’s ughh. Yes, I’m a performer and a teacher, but that’s a different version of me—an adrenaline-fueled persona who isn’t thinking about the real me. Well, now it makes me wonder if I only perform confidence??? Hmmm - I can’t ask for help.
I’m terrible at asking for help—at least on a personal level. I think I have been told this a couple of times. Professionally, I’ve got no issue reaching out for assistance. If I’m stuck on something at work, I’ll ask for help right away. But when it comes to personal struggles, I lock up. I don’t trust easily, and that probably comes from years of dealing with things on my own. For example: When our aunt bullied us, and my mom didn’t find out for years because I kept it to myself. Another thing, I’d rather be broke or hungry than ask her for financial help. Emotionally? Forget it. I’d sooner try to walk off my anxiety or meditate it away. Although I have broken down in front of my friends on more occasions than one, my emotional ceiling was in tatters. This weakness of asking for personal help, it’s something I’m working on, but when my emotional ceiling is breached, I revert back to that isolated version of me.
Strengths
- I’m a good listener.
This is one strength I’m genuinely proud of. It probably stems from my introversion. Because I didn’t speak much, I became a sponge for other people’s words. People of all ages—kids, teens, adults—would come to me and just talk, and I’d listen. At first, it annoyed me because I’d have to take off my headphones to listen to them vent, especially in high school. But over time, I embraced it. Being a good listener became second nature, and now I’ve made it a part of who I am. Hearing what people have to say about themselves makes me feel like I am part of them. - I like helping others.
See, there is a beautiful connection between 1 and 2. Helping others can be both a strength and a weakness, but I consider it mostly a strength. I enjoy helping people because I know what it’s like to struggle. In a way, it feels like I’m helping the version of myself that didn’t get help. Not everyone deserves it, though. I’ve learned the hard way that trust is earned, and not everyone who asks for help will be there when you need them. - I’m very confident.
This might sound contradictory to my first weakness, but it’s true. The arts helped me break out of my shell, and now, in the right setting, I can exude confidence. I can stand in front of a crowd and deliver with charisma. You wouldn’t know that I’m shy or whatever word my friends are still searching for. I’ve learned a lot about myself and others, and I think that’s what gives me confidence. Listening to Sir Ken Robinson, Simon Sinek, Julian Treasures, Celeste Headlee, Jim Carey, Les Brown and many more, have made me more aware of the power of the human spirit - I reflect.
Finally, I’m good at reflecting on my mistakes and making adjustments. I’ve always been able to look back, see where I went wrong, and apologize if necessary. My younger brother struggles with this, and it frustrates me to no end. Owning up to your actions isn’t easy, but it’s something I’ve gotten good at. Reflection has helped me in my career and my personal life. It’s my way of making sense of the emotional roller coaster I sometimes find myself on. I cannot tell you how much being able to reflect on actions and events in my life has made me improve just a bit. Even now I reflect on the decisions that I have made, I see where I could have done better.
In Closing
If this were a therapy session, and you being the therapist, I guess we’d be wrapping up now. Reflecting on all this, I realize that I’m both scarred and scared. I’m scared of failing after working so hard to build something for myself, not succeeding, I think we are all kind of scared of that. And those scars from past experiences? They still leave a bad taste in my mouth.
I’m evolving. Sometimes my strengths will turn into weaknesses, and my weaknesses will turn into strengths. I won’t always have the answers, and I’ll probably keep trying to face things alone, even when I shouldn’t. But I’m grateful for the people who listen to my feelings, my stories, and my bullshit. Like Kevin Hart said, “Your bullshit is my bullshit, and my bullshit is your bullshit.” We just have to find a way to navigate through each other’s bullshit, and be open enough to let other’s see your shit
So, if you’re reading or listening, just know—somewhere in my rambling, I’m talking to you. You’ll know it when you hear it.