Every workplace has a certain type of professional—the person who shows up early, completes all tasks assigned to them, never escalates a complaint, and somehow never advances. They are warmly described by coworkers. Managers are totally dependent on them. And every year, the accolades, promotions, and intriguing tasks go to someone else. Someone with more volume. Someone who occasionally pushes back, expresses opinions, and occasionally prolongs the meeting. The laid-back worker observes this from a safe distance and questions what they are doing incorrectly with a bewilderment that is subtly draining. They are not acting improperly. That’s practically the whole…
Author: Jack Ward
High-functioning people are often caught off guard by a specific moment. It occurs during retirement celebrations, the week following a job termination, or when the final child departs for college, and the house becomes quiet in a way that feels more like exposure than tranquility. The job title, parenthood, and being-needed roles that kept everything in order vanish. And what’s left is a self standing in its own living room feeling strangely naked, one that hasn’t been examined in years or even decades. This is the anxiety that comes from not having a part to play. Not the fear of…
When someone describes a certain type of discomfort, most people can identify it right away, even though it doesn’t have a clear name. When a friend brings you soup when you’re sick, you start worrying about whether the gesture creates an obligation, whether you owe them something now, and whether they will think less of you for needing it instead of just saying thank you. You feel a little uneasy for the remainder of the evening. The soup becomes chilled. Eating it by yourself on the couch, you secretly wish you had told them you were okay when they called.…
Imagine a typical evening with people you mostly like at a party. It doesn’t have to be awful or tense. And you start noticing yourself in the middle of a perfectly normal conversation. Did you think that sentence made sense? Do you speak too quickly? What precisely are you doing with your hands? You’ve split into two people without making a choice: the one speaking and the one observing, silently commenting on each word, pause, and facial expression. You’re worn out by the time you get home. Nothing went wrong. Simply put, you’re exhausted inexplicably. This is the most common…
A sixty-year-old man who grew up in a small rural town where stoicism was not only valued but practically expected watched every BYU football game with his father for thirty years. Two years ago, his father passed away. Since then, he has not returned. Not because he lost interest in football. However, he might cry if he went back, and at some point, he absorbed a rule so thoroughly that it no longer felt like a rule at all. It simply seemed to be true that losing emotional control equates to losing self-control. Emma McAdam, a licensed marriage and family…
A certain type of person is drawn, almost magnetically, to relationships that cause them to feel a little unbalanced. Not always, but not in a dramatic way. Just enough to prevent them from breathing out completely. And when someone steady, patient, and reliable appears in the same manner on Tuesdays as they do on Saturdays, they frequently do something subtly odd. They depart. Alternatively, they remain but retreat. Even if you asked them directly, they couldn’t adequately explain why they create distance where none previously existed. This isn’t negligence. It’s not exactly a character flaw. It’s a nervous system acting…
There is a particular type of stillness that appears to be peace but isn’t. Sometimes, after the chaos—after the argument you didn’t start, after the remark you ignored, after the moment you breathed through rather than blowing up—it quietly and unannouncedly settles in. It appears to be growing from the outside. From the inside, it appears as though all the doors are closed and you are in a hallway. Surprisingly, many people find themselves in this situation: they are no longer reactive, but they are also not quite living. The days feel strangely short, even though the storm has passed…
This week, there is a picture that doesn’t seem like much at first. A sixty-five-year-old woman with a white chocolate Magnum is strolling in the sunshine of London. She’s grinning. The fact that it is a modest and unremarkable image is the only reason it is significant. The woman is Fiona Phillips, and the smallness of this moment carries a particular kind of weight for those who remember her anchoring GMTV through fifteen years of British mornings. She was sharp, kind, and conducted celebrity interviews at a pace that left little room for hesitation. The picture was shared by her…