I should be working on a 20-minute speech that I have to give in two days. I should be washing clothes and making my list of what to take. I should be in the shower.

I should be … I should be … I should be. But I don’t want to. Procrastination has always been a thing of mine. I used to say that I work better under pressure, and that was my excuse for putting things off until the last minute. Most of my life I have been told that it’s a sign of laziness, lack of motivation, and a refusal to take responsibility. 

Not long ago, I read an interesting article on procrastination. The main gist was that people who procrastinated were often perfectionists. The article mentioned that we were also quite often people whom others expected a certain level of performance from and we, by procrastinating, put off doing the task because we had a fear of not living up to those expectations.

Whoa, what? 

I don’t strive for perfection, to be clear. Once, in an employee evaluation, I was told by my manager that no one received a perfect score because perfection meant no room for improvement, a statement that has lived in my soul for years and comes up quite often for me when I’m evaluating things. I do, however, hate to disappoint people who are counting on me, and, the more I learn about myself the more that seems to come into play. I also always feel as if I have to prove that I’m as capable as everyone else because I don’t usually operate or present the same way as everyone else. Therefore, I procrastinate as a way to avoid those fears and high-pressure moments.

A friend commented on someone’s Facebook post not long ago that I remain humble. I appreciated the comment, but I don’t know if “humble” is the right word because, more often than not, “avoiding the attention” would be more appropriate. Starting this work, I was told that people wouldn’t like me, and, for a people pleaser, that took a while to get used to. The first real interactions that proved that to be true are burned into my memories. Knowing at times that I’m standing in front of a group of people who don’t like me is one of the hardest parts of what I do. I’m always looking for a friendly face as I speak because I probably waited until the last minute to prepare my presentation, which adds to the anxiety. Ha. 

The weird part about my procrastination is that it usually happens with things I’m excited about and enjoy. Again, I’m sure it goes back to my fear of messing it up and being doubly upset because it is something that I enjoy. I always have the feeling that a once in a lifetime opportunity might be literally a once in a lifetime opportunity and who wants to jack those up, am I right? 

Another part of it is that I usually walk into big opportunities knowing that I have one shot to make an impression. Every big opportunity has been perfectly orchestrated by the host. They set the guest list, make the seating arrangements, and control the stage. There’s an expectation for what they want to be said, as well. I’m given the space to talk but there are bullet points that I have to adhere to. Sometimes I’m even asked to do a run through before the event. When this happens, it’s always suggested that it’s necessary so I feel more comfortable, but I suspect the truth to be that they need to make sure they haven’t made the wrong choice and that they feel comfortable. “Speak your truth” doesn’t always mean “speak your truth.” 

When I’m speaking about poverty to a group of mostly non-poor people, I have to make sure that I construct my speech in a way that doesn’t elicit feelings of pity. Pity doesn’t move people to action. In fact, it does just the opposite by almost demanding a lack of action. No one ever has a great time at a pity party. Pity traps people in the mindset of inaction, which is the last thing I want to do when I’m given an opportunity to recruit allies. 

I also have to make sure I present as approachable. I can’t be too loud or too bold while, at the same time, presenting myself as an equal who still acknowledges our differences. I have to find a way to be comfortable enough to say what I have to say yet uncomfortable enough to appear a tad bit vulnerable. I can’t take up too much space. It’s funny how life imitates art. I’ll write more about that … later. 

Onward,

Amy Jo