Bold&Kind is an experiment I ran on myself for two years.
I started because before using my rings this way, I was drowning.
You know when you're carrying the weight of your family, your career starts to pick up and things in your personal life start falling apart? and then out of nowhere comes the pain in the a*** inner critic that tells you aren't doing enough? That you're failing?
Yup, I know that feeling.
I used to find nail marks dug into my palm, from clenching my hand to get through moments in my day. I felt like I had to stay optimistic, take on everyone’s issues and remain standing. But it was hard. So I’d ball my hands into a fist, quietly by my side, while keeping a smile on, listening, working, being there.
My husband had been swallowed whole by a wave of depression. Retreating from the world was how he dealt with his parents’ life; physical violence, never ending fighting and bickering.
I walked into that world when I married him. You see we're the eldest kids. As children of immigrant families, our auto-pilot is programmed to be there for our family. Even when it means sacrificing ourselves. I hadn’t seen anything like their fights before. He knew what to do, how to stay whole. I did not.
Did you know there are limits to what you can handle? Growing up my mom’s nickname for me was, “911,” because I could handle anything. So I thought I was different. That I could handle it.
Turns out, I’m human.
Everything began boiling over when I started working at Google. The scope of the role was new, the responsibility heavy and the blessing of the job itself like another weight. I’m not exaggerating when I say you get stretched, and stretched again learning to stay afloat. All while still holding my breath from home. When my second manager in 12 months sat down with me for breakfast one day, I burst into tears. I was lost. I felt worthless. I was crying in front of my new boss! I was SO embarrassed, I made up an excuse and literally ran away. But I said I’d be back in time for our next meeting. Ever the dependable performer.
I ran a red light that day because I couldn’t see through my tears.
The thing was; it wasn’t just the job, or the family stuff, or my husband’s depression. Though each of those things were new to me. It was how I expected myself to navigate. I expected myself to know the answer, to be able to solve everything, take care of everyone and still learn a new job, build a new team. All while smiling.
The overwhelm was real. Constantly overthinking if I was making the right call, if I was doing enough, being enough for everyone else except myself.
I absolutely hated acknowledging that I had limits that needed to be managed.
So I made my rings into a promise for myself.
To see them and simply take stock of the moment. To see what I needed. To notice if something was depleting me. Not so I could run from it, but so I could add more of the things that nourished me back into the day. To be better to myself.
I made promises to everyone else in my life. As a wife, a daughter, a daughter in law, a friend, a manager, a people leader... To everyone I said, "I'll take care of you, I'll provide air cover, I'll be a safe place for you"
Why couldn't I do that for myself? So I began.
Those moments of self awareness became a habit. It started with jewelry, noticing my self talk & silencing my inner critic.
I told my boss what my full plate actually looked like. I got a therapist. Then another one specialized in trauma. I drew lines around what I would and would not accept at home. I said no. The more I shared, the more help I found.
Wearing a ring as a promise to myself started it all.
Maybe it empowers another woman to pay attention to herself.
Maybe she speaks up and says she needs a break.
Maybe she doesn’t feel guilty doing it.
Sending only hugs,
Mish