On two seperate occasions recently from two completely different people, I got an almost identical reflection. One accompanied by a beautiful handprinted picture, and a card saying ‘the world feels softer with you in it.’ And one thanking me for a recent working experience, saying ‘your vibe is so gentle.’
I can imagine my partner saying, wait, her, GENTLE? SOFT? CAITLIN? THIS CAITLIN? Because of course as one of the people I trust most in the world, he receives a lot of my pent-up, overheated emotion soup when I don’t want to direct anger / frustration / fear to where it really needs to go.
But I will say, I’m not the person you’ll ever find talking loudest at the group gathering. I don’t want to tell a long winded story, I generally don’t care to win the debate or even dive in at all, as I found social debates are rarely, if ever, a sharing of ideas and most often a pony show of intellectual dominance. And if I’m on my weekend the last damn thing I want to do is prove myself to anyone.
This softness has been something I think about as I come up against the hard edges of the world. When should we soft river our way through situations, and when do we stand firm? Is my softness allowed to exist because I’m outsourcing the hardness, the boundaries and conversations and expectations to the ‘tougher’ people in my life, so I don’t have to? How does one have employees, and lead, and move things forward without losing ones softness? Or is it impossible? Why do conversations about boundaries and saying no make my teeth ache? When does ones intrinsic softness give way to actually being low self confidence, conflict avoidance? How can you even tell?
Being in the world of action sports, I’ve found sometimes the emotions in such a high-adrenaline arena can get so high that physical fights break out. I’ve seen grown men push each other over in the bike park, get into each other’s faces, have to be physically pried apart before a fight. I’ve heard about surf leashes cut with machetes at popular beach breaks, people literally sitting in the line-up and audibly ‘boo-ing’ people I care about. So much pent up rage, so much posturing, so much danger so that sometimes, many times, I’ve wanted to quit both. I don’t give a shit, and it’s why I prefer to ride and surf alone a lot of the time.
In life, I’ve seen arrogant, dominant people get their way simply because they are the loudest. Instagram pop-psych posts applauds the loud, the demanding, the one who doesn’t recede, doesn’t back down. But what about when your natural setting is softness. What happens if you don’t want to play the game, and it’s not in your nature?
Last week I got attacked by a dog. An irresponsible woman walking 9 dogs off-leash couldn’t control them. They all circled me and one sunk its teeth into my leg. The owner didn’t take responsibility, and my first thought as I stood there afterward, deciding wether to just put my head down and continue my ride, or go make a stink about this was ‘I wish this hadn’t happened.’ Not, ‘how dare she’?. Just annoyance I now had to choose whether to advocate for myself or just get on with my life. I decided quickly that there are times in life we do have to put our foot down, and say no more. When she refused to take accountability, I went to the police. It was oddly reminiscent of another time in my life when I was thinking ‘what did I do to deserve this?” And “Is this my fault?” And “will the police, and others, believe me?” That time, I didn’t report anything. I accepted others unspoken advice to ‘not make a fuss.’ This time, I did report it. And it was oddly empowering. Yes, it is clear to see you got bitten by the dog. No, you did not do anything to deserve the dog bite. Yes, we believe you. Yes, there will be consequences, and this is what they are.
I’m starting to see softness and avoidance are not the same thing. Softness as the chosen default: soft river-ing through life, all ease and feeling and currents. Living inside my head, witnessing the world, seeing how people interact and how it all comes together. It allows me to write, it allows me to meet my son in his world, right where he is. Not seeking combat, but when risk or threat arrives, standing tall in it. Like the dog bite. My dad can recount a time we got scammed in Vietnam and I didn’t back down until it was resolved. My sister can recount in the states when we were treated poorly and we were looked over and then I confronted the person responsible. In that moment, it was other people slinking away from the conflict, teeth aching. I don’t often go in but when I’m backed against a wall, I will.
Why do I share all this? I think because often in a world that rewards the loud and the boisterous, it’s easy to think of your softness as a defect. And while I’m still exploring my edges, and even though hard situations continue to strike, as they do to all of us, I want to protect my softness. I do not have to mould myself into a caricature of other people around me, I simply have to be myself. When situations call to defend myself, I will, and strongly. But that doesn’t mean I have to harden from the inside out just so no harm can ever come to me. Just so I can always win. Because other people thank me for reminding me there is softness in the world. And we need that.
Comments
Nothing yet. Say the first thing.
Sign in to join the conversation.