Before You Hit Send

Have you ever written an entire response...

...and never hit Send?

A few days ago, I replied to a Facebook post from someone looking for podcast guests.

Her response to my comment had "audition, don't collaborate" stank. It immediately changed how I felt about the opportunity.

I wrote a lengthy teaching-moment reply.

Read it back.

Nodded in agreement with myself.

Then, instead of hitting Send...

I deleted it.

I hadn't changed my opinion.

And part of me still felt like I should say something.

Teach.

Offer feedback.

Explain there was a better way to engage.

Instead...

I got curious.

Why did I feel compelled to respond?

It wasn't to change her.

It was to prove myself right.

To quiet the tiny part of my brain that still wanted confirmation I'd made the right decision.

Psychologists have a name for what often happens next.

Cognitive dissonance.

That uncomfortable tension our brains feel when our decisions, emotions, and beliefs don't line up neatly.

One way we reduce that tension is by building a stronger case.

More justification.

More certainty.

As if we need enough evidence to earn the right to trust ourselves.

Maybe that's what I was about to do.

Not teach.

Not persuade.

Just make myself feel more certain.

And I didn't need to involve her to do that.

I no longer wanted to work with her.

Decision made.

And not every strong reaction deserves an audience.

Sometimes it just deserves our attention.

No anger.

No disappointment.

No ego.

Simply,

"No thanks."

And I moved on.

I wonder if it's the same reason so many of us struggle to believe that "No" is a complete sentence.

We tell ourselves we're explaining our decision for them.

But we can't outsource confidence.

We're explaining it for us.

Our reactions gather information.

They reveal values.

They expose preferences.

They quietly point us toward people, places, and experiences that fit...

...and away from the ones that don't.

Maybe that's why curiosity is so powerful.

It interrupts the impulse to perform.

Instead of asking,

"How do I make them understand?"

it asks,

"What am I learning?"

Maybe that's the real shift.

To stop using our reactions to manage other people.

And start using them to understand ourselves.