Back in 2017, on my very first week in Pennsylvania, a driver rear-ended my car. I was on my way to my new day care job. While stopping in traffic, a driver of a Jeep Compass rear-ended my Jeep Grand Cherokee which caused me to rear-end the BMW that was right in front of me. It wasn’t the first time I was in a car accident and it wasn’t the worst either. What made a difference was the fact that I was alone, I was driving and I was new in the area.
Gandalf, the name I’ve christened my Jeep with, has protected me from everything.
My initial reactions were panic, frustration and fear. Being a very emotional person, tears have flown out as soon as I saw the other two drivers. The driver of the BMW asked the other driver and I if we were okay, and I said I was. I wasn’t physically hurt and the damage wasn’t bad, but under the circumstances of the newness of everything, I didn’t know how to deal with it. I called my husband, Nick, to come check on me because I didn’t know if the car will be okay. The BMW refused to start but both Jeeps made it through with small dents and scratches. We had caused considerable traffic in the two way road. A tow truck and a police officer eventually got involved, with the latter taking our ID’s to write an incident report. At that time, immigration tensions and police brutality were highly broadcasted in the media. I wasn’t in the protection of liberal DC anymore. It’s not like I was undocumented, but at the same time, I was afraid that someone might try to find something to get me deported. It was a very irrational fear. No one got hurt so it wasn’t eligible for an actual police report.
Later on, when Nick was finally by my side, the driver who caused the accident checked up on me. She asked if I was okay and she apologized profusely for causing the accident. I was crying but my response was, “It’s okay. It’s fine.” Nick had told me that I shouldn’t say that when I clearly wasn’t. Being involved in an accident does not make anyone fine. Looking back, he was right.
I was raised in a culture of turning the other cheek. Your emotions should not be a cause of distress to other people lest you want others to lose their respect for you, or think that you’re spoiled or entitled. We were taught to smile through the awkward weight gain comments and “Why are you still single?” questions in family gatherings. We were taught to keep our mouths shut when we were being reprimanded because it was considered “talking back” or disrespectful to defend our justifiable actions. We were taught to say “It’s okay!” when someone hurts us as a semblance of forgiveness just so the misunderstanding ends there, even when there were still emotional grievances that weren’t addressed. That wasn’t healthy. Forgiving others is one thing, but not being honest about how the situation made you feel is another. When we keep our emotions inside and tell ourselves that everything is okay without addressing it, it creates a well of resentment within us.
My marriage has taught me that it’s okay to say that’s you’re not okay. I’ve got my husband to thank for helping me find the backbone I have been missing all these years. When we would have little misunderstandings at the beginning of our relationship, I used to shut down and not talk to him for an entire day or two. It was excruciating to keep everything inside when all I wanted to do was tell him how I felt. But I couldn’t. I was holding myself back because I was afraid that what I had to say would make him love me less. Nick was resilient though, he opened the door when I shut it and pestered me to talk. This was something new to me. My previous relationships before my husband went like this: After we have a misunderstanding, I would say “Everything’s fine,” but not act fine because we didn’t exactly communicate. We would continue to ignore each other until my partner wooed me back. It was juvenile. Nick accepted what I had to say, and either explained his side or owned up to his mistakes. Likewise, I showed him the same courtesy. It created an openness in the way we communicated where I would tell him exactly what was on my mind without fear of being judged. It has helped me find my voice.
When I feel distressed about something, I would immediately verbalize it. Not in a yelling, “I’m angry!” sort of way, but in a calm and healthy manner. I’ve used sentences like “I’m worried because I forgot to do something important at work!” “I’m tired because a personal issue was keeping me up at night.” or “I’ve been very sad because I had to remove a person in my life who I thought was a friend to me.” After saying those things, after being honest about how I feel and addressing what was bothering me, it was easier for me to take a step back. I begin to look at it from a logical perspective and then let go of them. When we express how we feel, we enter a state of comfort where we are able to deconstruct and analyze the situation in a logical manner. This is in contrast to our inability to do so earlier because we were so pent up with emotion. We arrive into a new level of questioning towards a deeper understanding. “Am I overreacting?” “Are my feelings justified?” “Is it worth it to pursue another conversation about this or should I just let it go?” What I learned from my experiences is that emotions, without proper expression, blinds us from thinking straight. This also leads us to a downward spiral of resentment, self-loathing and regret.
To allow yourself to say that you’re not okay is to be vulnerable, and vulnerability should be encouraged. Honest conversations and deep introspection happens when you allow yourself to be vulnerable. Authors like Brene Brown, who has analyzed vulnerability into tangible, qualitative research and wrote several books about it, encourages vulnerability because it transforms you. Organization is essential for humans to function. When you organize your thoughts and emotions, you become self-aware, blind spots disappear, and emotional maturity comes forth. When you talk about what distresses you and allow yourself to feel what you’re truly feeling, you become free. You allow yourself to that freedom and you allow yourself to be authentic. You don’t have to say you’re okay for other people. It’s okay to say you’re not okay.
When we learn how to say we’re not okay, we also learn how to accept that some things will never go the way we want them to go. That’s okay, too. We cannot control events that happen around us. We are merely participants in life. What we can control, however, is how we process these events. I’m not trying to preach that a positive outlook is the only way to solve our issues. We have to allow ourselves to feel shame, anger, fear, sadness and all the negative emotions first. But, we should never allow ourselves to wallow in them. Our mindset should be adjusted into seeing that the storm will come to pass, and even though it leaves an immense flood, we will be able to swim out of it. Humans are born natural swimmers after all.
“I’m not okay right now because I felt embarrassed when I said the wrong thing in front of the company.” “I’m not okay right now because I had a fight with my partner.” “I’m not okay right now because I had to end a friendship.” Be vulnerable but don’t forget to acknowledge that eventually everything will be okay. Life goes on, and so must we.
I wasn’t okay when I was in that accident. For days, I felt that another car might rear-end me again. But I can’t help it if that happens. That is beyond my control. The only control I have is how I feel and right now, I am okay.