What Does It Mean to “Handle It Well?”

*This article was mostly written on 10/18/24 and found while cleaning out my emails. I say this because the perspective is from before my double mastectomy, while I was still processing my decision and soon after I had decided to share about it on social media.*

In times of crisis, people seem inclined to tell others their opinion on how they are handling the situation, given whatever awful circumstances they are dealt. We probably have all done it at some point- “You’re taking this in stride,” “You’re so strong,” “You’re a fighter,” “I am in awe of you,” “I could never”… the list goes on. I imagine they/we do it to provide a compliment in a tough time, to express love and admiration for someone who we wish wasn’t struggling. Given someone’s current circumstances, it seems helpful at the time to provide a positive observation, a light in the darkness if you will. This feels wholesome and genuine, and I am not disputing that.

I suspect there is also a subconscious element of this positivity, though, as it often serves to make ourselves feel better about the pain of others. If they’re keeping it together, then we don’t have to feel as bad for them. This is not something we are overtly aware of, in my opinion- and if we were, we wouldn’t say that out loud. But it makes us uncomfortable to see others hurting, so if we get the outward impression that they’re not too upended by it, then we can breathe a sigh of relief. Everything’s cool? Okay, cool.  On the flip side of the same coin, we tend to sugarcoat our own suffering and highlight the silver linings to make others feel better- to “fake it until we make it” in a way. We “at least” ourselves because it is painful to focus on the negatives. “At least he didn’t suffer,” “at least they caught it early,” etc. It doesn’t mean the upsides are untrue, and I’m not suggesting we ignore the positives in favor of despair. It just feels important to lift the veil on the humanity of all of this. It’s tough, it’s messy and it’s ubiquitous.

This line of thinking also makes me wonder what it looks like to “not handle it well,” and who gets to decide that, anyway? I’ll use myself as an example. I am having a prophylactic bilateral mastectomy in a few weeks, and it has come with a boatload of support from family, friends and strangers on the internet. The vast majority of people are commending my logical decision-making skills, and the people I know are assuring me that I’ve got this. The outcome looks good for me, so the positivity isn’t of the toxic variety that makes you want to scream, “YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!” in response to “You’re gonna be fine!” What if i wasn’t handling it well, though? What would that mean? Would it be justified? Would I get a “pass,” or would I be silently judged for it? And does it even matter?

Probably not, but my brain cannot move on without overanalyzing it, so here we go:

It feels necessary to split the outside and inside perspectives of whether someone is handling a situation “well,” so let’s start with outside appearances. If I were perceived as “not handling it well,” I would ostensibly be viewed as hysterical, maybe crying often and publicly, calling out of work, canceling plans, posting cringey rants on social media, centering myself as if I am the only one with problems, lashing out at others, displaying distinctive mood changes, showing poor health or hygiene habits, and letting it all impact my kids in a negative way. Considering my social media presence may already be viewed as “cringey,” I think that one’s fine. My kids are young and I know my patience is thin these days, but overall I’d say I think I’m keeping it together with them. I am not having overtly emotional outbursts, I’m showing up to work (with approval to leave early or arrive late for appointments), I’m not lashing out and I’m keeping social engagements. From an outsider looking in, I get a stamp of approval (right)??
Internally, I  feel relatively sane and grounded, but it’s somewhat hard to tell if the facade of how I want others to see me is doing the heavy lifting. Before I made a decision about the surgery that I feel is best for me, I refused to process it emotionally. I knew it was a protective mechanism that would only hold for so long, but I was willing to go forward with it because I wanted to make the most pragmatic decision I possibly could. One that would benefit me and my family in the long term and that would ultimately cause the least amount of suffering for all involved. I did take mental health into account, but I evaluated it from a practical perspective vs. an emotional one. I knew that subjecting myself to multiple procedures, being in limbo frequently, and keeping a relatively high level of cancer risk would not be good for my mental health, so that factored into my decision heavily.
By internal standards, I feel like “not handling it well” would have been to make an emotional choice over a logical one, to decide hastily, to not get a second opinion, to not ask all the questions I needed to, to not advocate for myself, to not bring along support to appointments (I only made that mistake once), to think in the short term vs. the long term, to choose suffering in order to avoid pain, to ignore mental health, to not ask for help and to not gather my village for support. I sought out those that have been in similar situations to get advice, I informed my boss and close coworkers from the start, and I began journaling about my experience early on. I feel like I am doing everything “right,” but that still doesn’t make it easy, and I know that stress impacts my body physically once I hit my threshold for it.
Immediately after my decision was made, I felt huge relief. That felt like the hardest part up to that point. But now that logistics and planning have been well underway, the reality of what is about to happen is setting in. I’m scared. I feel like a glass of ice slowly tipping- ice holding- hold, hold, hold. At some point the dam will break, the ice will come tumbling out and the emotions that have been kept at bay will avalanche onto everything and everyone around me. How long I can or should hold it, I simply do not know. (I might even need to take them up on their offer of a Xanax prescription in the week leading up to surgery).
Sure, I have checked off many of the boxes of a poised outward appearance, but the surgery hasn’t even happened yet. I haven’t even let myself process it fully. Surely, stuffing the emotions down and holding them in isn’t the barometer of success here. We must be more honest with ourselves than that (and my “we” I mean “me).” What I do feel to be true is that I know myself well, I knew what I needed to do leading up to the decision being made, and I rallied support around me for the time when the dam breaks. Many people are far more private than me regarding health info, which I fully understand and respect. I know that sharing is cathartic to me and building a metaphorical fortress around myself whether within my circle or virtually makes me feel held, which I need right now.
So, am I handling it well? Honestly, that’s yet to be seen, but I’m not sure that’s important, after all. I have just spent over a thousand words diving into this, only to come to the defiant realization that it’s actually no one’s right to judge that but me. People will, no doubt, but I think all that matters is how I am holding up in any given present moment and whether I am able to seek support for my own well-being. That is up to me alone, so as long as I have self-awareness through this process and am willing to ask for and accept what I need, then I am, indeed, handling it “well.” As for the perception of others, if they want to judge me, I will simply let them* and move on with my life. We all need to be able to process things at our own pace, and it’s none of my business if someone else feels I should or could have handled something differently. “Letting them” is not easy, but it does bring an emotional freedom that I quite enjoy.
I’d love to hear about a situation where you may have been preoccupied with the perception of how you were handling it, and how you overcame it (or didn’t)! You can comment here or reach out on IG, FB or Threads @eatwhatfeelsgood .
*Cassie Phillips, author and creator, wrote a poem called “Let Them” in 2019, which is a comforting piece about letting go. Mel Robins, NYT best-selling author and mindset expert, wrote a book entitled “The Let Them Theory,” popularizing the phrase into mainstream culture. Cassie deserves credit for inspiring Mel’s latest work. This is a topic that seems to be controversial at the moment, as it is not clear whether credit has been given or whether Mel is simply profiting off of the work of one of her supposed mentees. Cassie is not given explicit credit in the book.

2 Comments

  1. Great essay Amy! You are strong, inside and out! Love you! ♥️


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