Episode Details

My brain is amazing at picking out one seemingly inconsequential detail about a person and then using that detail to spin an entire imagined narrative about why their life is better than mine. 

That girl in the matching athleisure set jogging in Central Park? She works out every single morning; she’s more disciplined than me.

The construction worker laughing with his buddies? He has more joy in his life and doesn’t sweat the small stuff.

The really friendly cashier who compliments me on my choice of wine? He has a weekly dinner night with his best friends. 

That couple in the window across from my apartment, with the really pretty string lights? Their apartment is immaculate, and therefore their life is more together than mine.

(That last one was an even bigger stretch than the rest — I don’t even know if a couple really lives in that apartment. All I’ve ever seen are the twinkly lights. My brain took the reins from there and decided that a really chic couple lives in that apartment. And that their lives are better than mine.) 

Of course, I don’t actually really believe that any one life is “better” than another.

Except if I’m feeling particularly depressed or anxious. In that case, I really will write you an English essay on why a girl with longer hair than mine has a better life than me. Sure, I only saw her for .5 seconds as we were crossing the street in opposite directions. But I could just tell. Her life is better. I’ll build a thesis from there.

Anyway,  it’s all subjective. Even the person who I think has the “best life ever” is likely longing for something more. 

Maybe the girl with longer hair wishes that she could pull off a bob. And the woman I see jogging in Central Park is recovering from an injury that kept her from running the marathon. And the construction worker laughing with his buddies secretly hates his coworkers. And the really friendly cashier who compliments me on my choice of wine hasn’t talked to their best friend in months.

Everything I just wrote could be true or false. I made it up. We all walk around making up stories about strangers, every single day.

We also make up stories about ourselves.

I sometimes tell myself that I’m not a disciplined enough writer, even though I’ve been writing an essay every week since May (almost 30 in total.)

I recently told a friend “I wish I was better at having fun.” One of my clients recently called me “the patron saint of fun” and wrote a gorgeous testimonial (excerpt below) about how I helped them re-incorporate fun into their life.

I had a major breakthrough a couple of hours after our fourth session. I realized that what I really want for my 30s is to have a lot of fun. That might sound silly to you, but for someone who spent his 20s worrying and working for his future and the issues he cares about, it's kind of a life-changing discovery. Alexa picked up on this realization and helped me think through how fun can become a part of every aspect of my life, from my style to my job to my relationships.

When people ask if I’m a good cook, I have to stop myself from saying “sort of!” I am a really great cook. I made restaurant-quality shrimp scampi a few weeks ago. My cousins couldn’t stop raving over my slow cooker apple crisp at Thanksgiving. I have never made a bad plate of pasta in my LIFE. At Friendsgiving a few years ago, I made mushroom gravy, butternut squash mac and cheese, and vegetarian meatballs from scratch. 

The stories we tell ourselves, about ourselves, are important. 

We are so quick to put ourselves down and so quick to assume the best in others.

What if we started extending ourselves some of that grace?

I went to a panel a few weeks ago, where Nina Brandt and Sharon Varghese Chan left us with the simple and impac