First and foremost, I want to acknowledge the devastating situation in LA. My heart goes out to anyone impacted, directly or tangentially. If you have anything to share about how I or others in this little community can help start the healing process, please do so.
I hope that you are all staying safe. I’ll keep the intro short this week. Remember to take care of the people in your life and allow yourself to be taken care of as well.
On Being Less Reactive (and Other Grown-Up Magic Tricks)
One of the most surprising gifts my thirties handed me—alongside a few gray hairs and the inability to tolerate cheap wine—was learning how to be less reactive. Not totally Zen or anything (let’s not get carried away), but more spacious. More aware. And way less likely to say the exact thing I’ll regret three hours later while shampooing my hair.
It didn’t happen overnight. Honestly, it took a long string of awkward moments, overreactions, and spirals I wish I could take back. But slowly, gently, I started noticing the power of the pause. And once I felt the quiet relief of choosing my response instead of firing one off like a confetti cannon? I wanted more of that.
Over time, being less reactive became a tool I reach for in all areas of my life—parenting, relationships, work, group chats, and even my own internal narrative. Here are a few ways I try (keyword: try) to practice that pause.
1. Batch your communication (aka protect your peace)
I love batching—errands, emails, chaos. When I respond to every ping the second it comes in, I turn into a squirrel on espresso. Instead, I try to check messages in windows: mid-morning, post-lunch, and once before I log off. That way, I’m less likely to respond reactively and more likely to actually say what I mean. Bonus: it helps me stay present with whatever else I’m doing (like finishing a thought or a sentence or a sandwich).
2. Take a beat (or a full night’s sleep)
You know the advice about sleeping on it? Yeah. Still holds. Whether it’s a spicy text, a frustrating email, or a new pair of shoes calling your name from Instagram, that first emotional wave isn’t always the one to follow. I like to draft responses, walk away, and revisit them with fresh eyes. Same with online carts. If I still want it tomorrow, maybe it's love. (Or maybe it’s dopamine. Either way, it can wait.)
3. Play out the perspectives
When I feel that familiar tug to fire back, I try to zoom out. What might this person be carrying that I can’t see? What would it feel like if I were in their shoes? And also—what would happen if I just… didn’t respond right away? There’s usually more space and clarity than I originally thought, especially if I give myself room to find it.
4. Ask questions instead of jumping to conclusions
I can’t tell you how many emotional spirals I’ve gone down because of a tone I misread in a text. (Is “sure.” angry or just brief?!) Asking a clarifying question before reacting is so simple, but honestly kind of revolutionary. “Hey, just wanted to double check—did you mean…?” It’s vulnerable, but it saves so much emotional cleanup.
5. Don’t take it personally (even when it feels personal)
This one’s hard. But so often, the way people act has nothing to do with us. It’s their stress, their bad day, their baggage—not our fault, and not ours to carry. Detaching from that frees up so much energy. And lets us respond with clarity instead of defensiveness.
6. Pause before RSVPing
A shiny invitation hits the inbox and my first instinct is “YES!” But I’ve learned to sit on it. I ask myself: if this event were tonight, would I want to go? If the answer is “meh,” I trust that feeling. No more RSVP regret.
7. No response is a response
This one has taken years to really get. But silence? It’s powerful. Whether it’s protecting my energy, drawing a boundary, or simply choosing not to engage—some situations truly don’t need a reply. Especially when the goal isn’t connection, but provocation.
8. Track your triggers
Try noticing when you’re most reactive. Is it a particular person? A specific time of day? A topic? A tone? Keeping track (even just in your notes app) for a few weeks can help you name it. And once you’ve named it, you can choose how to meet it.
9. Therapy, always
Internet advice is cute, but if you're bumping up against the same blocks over and over, therapy is a game-changer. There's no shame in needing help unpacking why some situations hit so hard—or figuring out how to unlearn reactive habits that were probably once survival strategies.
Learning to be less reactive hasn’t made me perfect. But it’s made me gentler. With others. And with myself. I’m still practicing, still pausing, still sometimes hitting “send” a little too fast. But when I get it right? It feels like a quiet little superpower.
One I’ll keep coming back to, one breath at a time.
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