I’m nervous. I was always nervous. I was always nervous about being nervous. Then I was embarrassed. Embarrassed about being nervous about being nervous. Then I felt ashamed about being embarrassed about being nervous about being nervous. Then I … “Stop!!! This is getting silly!” said a voice from somewhere nearby. (I looked around, full circle, but didn’t see anyone. Odd!)
This has been the story of my life: being nervous. I’ve felt nervous about doing any odd little thing that most other people wouldn’t think anything of. On top of that, of course I’ve felt nervous about things most people feel afraid of. Basically, if there is something that I need to do, I feel nervous.
I need to phone someone. “Great!” says every cell in my body excitedly, “Let’s get nervous!” I need to make a presentation in front of a group of people. “Yippee!” my cells sing, jumping up and down. Before the day, they have a big party every day for a fortnight. And the biggest one on the day itself.
My cells are so active in nervous departments that I recently won an award for the most nervous girl in the world hosted by Nervous Girls International. But everyone is too nervous to organize the award ceremony so we have postponed it indefinitely.
I have to thank my mum for passing that trait on to me. My mum is very sensitive. She overthinks and analyses about every little thing people say and do. She won’t let go of a subject until she has looked at it from at least a hundred angles. And then another hundred for good measure. Because of that, she’s also very observant about people. But I think there is such a thing as “too observant.” Some things are best left unnoticed. Anyway, I have inherited some of those traits although they are not that strong. Thank goodness!
And from my dad, I inherited my lifelong best friend. She has always lived with me. My dad encouraged our friendship so much so that she has a permanent home with me. In. My. Head. (Thank you, Pa Pa. I know you just don’t want me to be lonely.)
This best friend of mine has my interests at heart. She loves me, of course. Whenever I’m nervous, she has a go at me, “What is there to be nervous about? You shouldn’t feel like that. Why are you still feeling like that at your age?? Stop it now!” Bless her, she’s giving me tough love. It’s good to have a friend like that. But I still feel nervous. And I feel stupid for feeling nervous. That stupidity I feel is even worse than the nervousness I feel. Then I feel even more nervous trying to get rid of that stupidity I feel about the nervousness. So all negative adjectives in the dictionary jump out and start to form a long chaotic queue that stretches out over the horizon. (They must all be Burmese since they don’t quite know how to queue.) I get tired just by looking at these miserable adjectives standing there waiting to be let in through my front door. I didn’t realize I was that popular.
About six months ago though, I fell out with my lifelong best friend. We had a huge fight and said irrevocable things. She moved out and I’ve now got someone else in her place: my coach. (See, a girl like me is never alone.)
The thing about my new coach is that, unlike my best friend, she never disagrees with me. At first it sounds like she doesn’t have my interests at heart since she doesn’t give me tough love. She’s just keeping her life easy by letting me get my own way. Whenever I feel nervous, she says, “Yes, you’re nervous. It’s ok to be nervous.”
Then she says, “Do it nervous!”
Make that phone call nervous. Do that presentation nervous. Go to that social event nervous. Just do it nervous!
Her words don’t stop me getting nervous. But now I don’t feel stupid anymore about feeling nervous. That’s a huge weight off my back.
Of course, my new coach doesn’t deal with just nervousness. She tackles other emotions as well.
Some time ago, I was feeling a bit sad. My old best friend would have reproached me, “Why are you sad over such trivial things?? You should be more grown up than that. Stop it!” But my coach said, “Yes, you are sad. It’s ok to be sad. Do it sad.”
So, I carried on doing what I needed to do despite feeling sad. Then the feeling disappeared eventually. And I managed to finish what I needed to do. That low mood didn’t stop me. I’m sure, with my old best friend’s tough love, it would have stopped me. It would have made me eat lots of spicy food and watch Simon’s cat videos on Youtube until the sadness was gone.
Again, one morning last week, to my horror, I woke up to find a big zit on my face. I said to the mirror, “Oh, I look terrible today. I don’t want anyone at work to see me like this!” The mirror made no comment. 
But, I knew what my old best friend would have responded, “Stop caring so much about your appearance. You’re so vain! You should know by now that other people are too preoccupied with their own issues to notice you at all.” She is right, of course. With her words reverberating in my head all day, I would have carried on self-conscious and feeling stupid for being self-conscious.
But that morning, my coach gently said, “Yes, that zit looks terrible. Do it looking terrible. Just give everyone a big smile.”
So, thank you, coach. No longer do I need to get rid of my unwanted nerves and other emotions. I only need to learn to do things despite feeling them. Now, I’m still the most nervous girl in the world, but with style and grace. Stay with me forever. And please please don’t let my old reproaching friend come back here ever again.
Acknowledgement
I thank Rory Vaden, the author of “Take the Stairs,” for inspiring me to get myself a coach.