I sat at the table, bracing myself for the conversation ahead. I had been mulling this over in my mind for weeks—how to best engage in a topic that I’ve realized I get triggered by—Roles.
What is it about Roles that is so intimidating? Why does my nervous system ramp up into a state of reactivity when trying to brainstorm and create roles and rhythms with my spouse and business partner?
Is it baggage from what the roles have historically been, or where I have not historically been able to “see myself” in them?
Is it an insecurity or a belief about myself that rears up from my subconscious into my forefront, one that I do not know how to process or deal with in the moment?
Is it the presumption that the way the role is being communicated to me implies that I am not “cut out for it”? Why do I presume this to be true just because the other person’s tone may be implying that narrative?
I tried engaging in the conversation in a diplomatic way. I wanted to come at it from a tactical place—what “fits” within the preexisting buckets of the various roles that have been needed or embodied in the past. But I quickly devolved internally, failing to hear what Tucker was trying to say through my own filters and feelings.
My mind was at war with itself. I was beginning to spiral emotionally, while my logical side was simultaneously pleading with my emotions to chill out. I couldn’t unhear the damning message from a singular vantage point. I could only hear where every word seemed to imply the worst about me.
If it wasn’t something “I should be willing to do,” then it was something “I should’ve thought about already”… and while those words weren’t said exactly that way, it was the only way my brain could hear them.
This conversation is needed—vital, in fact—for our success and cohesion as partners.
I could choose to dig in, react, and blow up, or I could choose to honor that something around this topic is challenging for me. It may be an internal check-engine light trying to point me to an issue that needs attention. It may be a learning opportunity for my spouse and business partner to speak in new ways around old things. In truth, it is likely multifaceted and complex, even for such a simple topic.
Tucker and I met with our coach at the end of a difficult week, which included the foreboding roles conversation. And Jay said something profound—many things, actually—but this one really cued a lightbulb for me.
I know that I have a tendency to “flight” and “fawn” as my reactive responses to conflict or stress. When things get really hard, my mind loves to dive off the deep end and catastrophize, and I had been doing that lately. I was thinking back to how much “easier” my real estate business was to run, how much “better” I was at it, and how I felt like I thrived more in that role than in this one.
At moments this week, and even during this coaching session, I had wondered if this journey of whole-life partnership with Tucker was going to be the thing that breaks us. Towards the end of this challenging coaching session, Jay said with a slight chuckle, “Julie, could you imagine if you were still doing real estate? It would feel a lot easier than this, wouldn’t it? But you know what? Somewhere deep down in your heart, you knew you needed this path for your own sanctification and growth.”
At no point did I mention my longing for the “easier days of real estate” to Jay… he simply intuited it and called out my flight response. He reminded me of a bigger why, of a deep truth that I had not been able to articulate.
The tough conversations—where I feel triggered, where I’m faced with my insecurities, fears, and demons—serve as incredible opportunities for my growth and sanctification. Opportunities for me to lean into the hard, because it’s through the leaning in that fortitude is forged.