Because sometimes the nicest thing I can do is keep my mouth shut.
There seems to be a common misconception that as women get older, we lose our filters.
Apparently, once we hit a certain age, we just start saying whatever pops into our heads.
Well, I’m here to set the record straight.
My filter is working just fine, thank you very much.
In fact, it’s working overtime.
If you could hear half the things I choose NOT to say during an average day, you’d probably nominate me for a Nobel Peace Prize.
Because the amount of restraint I demonstrate while interacting with the general public is nothing short of heroic.
And nobody appreciates it.
The Things I Say Versus the Things I’m Thinking
I’ve become quite skilled at having two completely different conversations at the same time.
One happens out loud.
The other happens in my head.
For example:
What I say: “Oh, that’s interesting!”
What I’m thinking: “That is quite possibly the stupidest thing I’ve heard all week, and it’s only Tuesday.”
What I say: “No worries!”
What I’m thinking: “There are, in fact, several worries, and you’re responsible for every single one.”
What I say: “Take your time.”
What I’m thinking: “I’ve aged three years waiting for you to figure this out.”
What I say: “Whatever works best for you!”
What I’m thinking: “Apparently, we’re just abandoning logic altogether.”
See?
I’m delightful.
Practically a ray of sunshine.
Someone should give me a certificate.
My Face, Unfortunately, Has Not Attended the Same Training
My mouth has learned restraint.
My face?
Not so much.
I can be sitting there, nodding politely, saying all the appropriate things, while my eyebrows are conducting an entirely separate conversation.
And apparently, they’re quite expressive.
I’ve been told I have a look.
A LOOK.
I don’t know what people are talking about.
Just because my eyes occasionally roll so far back into my head that I can see yesterday doesn’t mean I’m being judgmental.
I’m simply processing information.
Very disappointing information.
And sometimes my face processes it before my manners can intervene.
Meetings Should Come With a Warning Label
If you’ve ever worked in an office, you know exactly what I’m talking about.
You’re sitting in a meeting that could have been an email.
Someone has been talking for twenty minutes without actually saying anything.
Then another person asks a question that was answered approximately forty-five seconds earlier.
And the entire discussion starts over.
What I say: “That’s a good question.”
What I’m thinking: “Were you physically present for the first half of this meeting, or did your brain go out for lunch?”
Then someone suggests scheduling another meeting to discuss what was discussed in this meeting.
Wonderful.
A sequel.
Nobody asked for one, but here we are.
At this point, I’m wondering whether it’s possible to retire during my lunch break.
Some People Confuse My Silence With Agreement
This is one of my favourites.
Just because I’m not arguing with you doesn’t mean I agree with you.
Sometimes I’ve simply decided that explaining myself would require more energy than the situation deserves.
You can believe whatever you like.
You can tell me your elaborate theory.
You can explain why you’re absolutely right, despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary.
And I’ll smile.
I’ll nod.
I’ll say, “Well, that’s one way of looking at it.”
Which, translated from Arctic Blonde, means:
“I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain this to you.”
It’s not agreement.
It’s energy conservation.
And at my age, I’m all about conserving energy.
The Group Chat Is Testing Me
Every group chat has one person.
You know the one.
Someone asks a simple question.
“Are we meeting Saturday at 2?”
And suddenly there are 47 messages.
Someone sends a thumbs-up.
Someone else asks where.
Another person sends a picture of t
