Even If You're Right, I'm Still Claiming the Win

There’s this magical moment when someone praises you publicly. For your creativity, your performance, your ability to juggle flaming chainsaws while simultaneously writing heartfelt blog posts (okay, maybe just the creativity part). 

They say something glowing, loud enough for the room to hear. You smile politely, while inside you’re trying not to crumple like a day-old balloon. And then, right on cue, my brain slinks into the conversation like a nosy raccoon with a psychology degree. 

Brain: “He only said that because he knows you’ve got rejection sensitivity and AuDHD. He’s trying to stop you from spiraling into a three-day existential funk. This was basically a preemptive emotional hostage negotiation.” 

Cool. Thanks, brain. 

What would I do without your unsolicited anxiety riddles? 

But here’s the thing: even if that inner voice is right (which, let’s be honest, it’s about as accurate as a toddler with a dartboard, but more dangerous), I’m claiming the win anyway. 

Why? 

Because maybe—just maybe—people are being genuine. 

Maybe kindness isn't a performance. 

Maybe support doesn’t need a hidden agenda. 

And maybe, just maybe, I actually earned it. 

So today, I'm silencing the raccoon-brain. I'm putting a party hat on that compliment and giving it cake. Even if it's a pity cake. Cake is still cake. 

 And if my brain has a problem with that, it can take it up with my new department: The Ministry of Shut Up, We’re Celebrating. 

 

Footnote: The Ministry also oversees emergency confetti deployment, “heck yes” pep talks, and reminding me that “overthinking” is not, in fact, an Olympic sport. Yet.