Veruca, sweetheart, angel

Meet my saboteur

May 19, 2023

Gimme that pen. You’re always making things difficult. - Veruca Salt

For me, all my negative thoughts that I have about, 'How did you miss that pitch? Why did you miss that pitch? You shouldn't have missed that pitch.' I just kind of sit there and kind of crush it up, and once I'm done doing that... I just kind of toss it aside. - Aaron Judge

The other day, a friend remarked that she finds it brave for me to be sticking with my writing. Posting week over week. “Brave?” I said. “Yes, brave,” she said back.

Separately, a friend commented that it was brave to be sharing my stories here. “Brave?” I said. “Yes, brave,” she said back.

When I think about bravery, I hardly think of this white, cis woman sitting in a cafe, writing about what it’s like to lose her dad and her dog, or what she is learning from this moment in her life. Bravery looks bolder, more dramatic, higher stakes, higher reward.

Is it that we have different definitions of brave? Or is there something that they see that I do not? Can it be a bit of both?

Sharing stories or our vulnerability seems braver than perhaps I often acknowledge. Yet, week over week, I have to convince myself to hit publish. I am scared to be called out as an imposter. Unoriginal. Boring. Bland. Blah.

A breath here.

That’s a lot of negative self talk.

That’s my saboteur talking.

You might not know the term saboteur but trust me, you know what they are. Saboteurs are the voices in your head that spew negative emotions about you and the way you handle life. They are the voices that question your readiness, your abilities, your motivation, your worth. They are the voices that say you aren’t doing enough, or that you are doing it wrong, or that you shouldn’t because….fill in the blank.

By way of example, let me introduce one of my saboteurs: Veruca Salt from the 1971 film version of Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Impatient. Irascible. Impetuous. Uncaring. Unkind. Selfish. She proudly belts, “I want the world / I want the whole world / I want to lock it / All up in my pocket /It's my bar of chocolate / Give it to me now!”

When I get impatient, unkind, quick to anger, quick to act, unintentional, disappointed in the pace of things, that is Veruca. I see her, stamping her foot. Wanting the world. Now.

Veruca wants readers, a book contract, to record on Audible. She doesn’t care how. She wants it now. Veruca doesn’t want to craft or consider - she wants to post quickly and get it done. Veruca doesn’t find her own golden ticket - her father farms out the work to the women in the peanut factory. Veruca doesn’t want to do the work.

When I recognize Veruca, I ask myself: is this who I really want to be? Is that version of myself successful in my definition of success? Am I proud when I occupy that space? Is that me?

We all know the answer here.

When I recognize Veruca, I whisper to myself, “Veruca, sweetheart, angel, I know you want it all. I’m working on it.” And then I think of Mary Oliver. She has a line that serves as an antidote to this impatience, this anxiety: Things take the time they take. Don’t worry. And then poof - down the garbage chute she goes. That works for me.

Aaron Judge shares a similar story about coping with negative talk by “crushing it up and tossing it aside.” That works for him.

Is confronting one’s saboteur brave? I don’t know. Sometimes it feels brave to go a different way. Sometimes it feels brave to truly believe in and step closer to the future self, the better self, I am conjuring.

And so I say to her, Veruca, sweetheart, angel - things take the time they take. Don’t worry.

Prompts for you:

What does “brave” mean to you?
Get to know your saboteur: when do your saboteur(s) show up? What do they sounds like? What does it feel like? If you were to give your saboteur a name, what would it be?
What might be an antidote to your saboteur?