the meanest woman in town

Happy Sunday, friends!

A couple of nights ago I had a dream that I’d booked myself a night away in a fancy hotel as a treat. When I checked into the hotel everyone was as nice as could be. They even gave me fresh-baked cookies when they handed over my room key.

However, when I got to my room the door was half the height of a normal door and about half as narrow. My suitcase would barely fit through and I was lying on the floor trying to squeeze myself through this door, but barely able to even get one thigh through. I realised that these doors were made for slim people and hadn’t at all taken into account the needs of my fat self. But still, I just kept trying to make it work.

And then some part of me snapped and said “this is ridiculous! They’ve got to have better accommodation for fat people.”

So I went back down to the front desk and explained that I couldn’t fit through my door and wasn’t going to squeeze myself in and out of my room, and did they have any rooms with doors better suited to fat people?

Immediately the tone of the front desk shifted. They started singing a song about me being the meanest woman in town.

I was informed that they did have rooms with wider doors but they were in the basement and that if I wanted one I should know that every single one of them had something wrong with it — mould lurking in the corners, or broken faucets. That was going to be the price I had to pay for wanting a room I didn’t have to squeeze myself into.

I woke up and was like “damn, I have to write this one down.” 😂

The fear the dream reveals is pretty obvious — taking up space comes at a price and asking for what I want and need will make people dislike me. But it’s funny because if you asked me, “Joeli, do you worry about people liking you?” my knee-jerk response would be “Of course not! I don’t care what people think!”

But this dream made me remember a time maybe seven years ago — I was supposed to speak at a pretty big UK event but the event organiser called me up and said that someone had complained that basically I was being a bitch on the Internet. She said she still wanted me to speak at the event but that she wasn’t sure if I was a good fit anymore and that she would be “keeping an eye on my posts”. I have no idea who complained because it hadn’t even been announced that I was speaking at the event. And I have no idea how anyone could have looked at anything I was posting around that time and think I was being mean-spirited. But I cried for three days and then pulled out of the event.

I don’t care what people think, as long as they don’t think I’m being mean.

When I moved into my new house the movers scratched up our newly painted stairs pretty badly. I smiled and told them don’t worry about it because they were two young lads and I didn’t want to make them feel bad.

When a taxi driver dropped me off half-a-mile from where I actually wanted them to, and I smiled said “this is great!” and tipped him 20%.

And I can’t tell you how many hair cuts I’ve had that I haven’t been happy with but have never once said a single thing to the hairdresser.

For pretty much all my life, I would have absolutely squeezed myself through that hotel door and not said a single damn thing about it.

It’s taken a lot of work, a lot of effort, a lot of learning to sit with discomfort to stop doing that and it’s still something I’m continuously working on. But the first step is actually super simple and easy — name it. Just start noticing when you’re biting your tongue — when you’re angry but not saying anything, when you feel hurt but you don’t voice it, when you want help but you don’t ask. If you have a moment, you could try journaling about it or just take a moment to reflect. What’s the fear here? What’s the worst that could happen if you say something? What’s the risk? Then start experimenting. Find tiny moments when the risk is low that you can speak up and notice what happens. How did it feel? Did your greatest fears come true? Or did it turn out way better than expected?

Even if a whole group of hotel staff burst into song about how mean you are, you deserve to not have to squeeze yourself into spaces. Be your biggest, most beautiful, most truest self. It’s the most excellent thing you can do.