A grown-up's guide to getting over hurt feelings
I tend to cling to every perceived slight or implied disrespect. I came across an interview this week that showed the benefits I could get by using words to explain how I feel.
When I was 24 years old, I left my job at ESPN.com to become a reporter at The Seattle Times, where I began covering high-school sports.
When I let my bosses in Connecticut know, the site’s executive editor called me into his office.
“You didn’t ask for my opinion, but I’m going to give it to you anyway,” he said.1 “You’re making a mistake, and you might wind up covering high-school sports for years.”
He was utterly wrong about this.
I realize you may be surprised to hear me say that, given that ESPN.com is only the most trafficked site in the world, and newspapers are something of an endangered species.
But I wasn’t going to become a reporter if I stayed at ESPN.com, and reporting is absolutely what I wanted to do.
So I did. And after three years of covering high-school sports, I progressed to covering the Seattle Supersonics. And then the Seattle Seahawks. And then, hosting a radio show in town.
As my career progressed, I would occasionally think back on that conversation with my former boss. I derived an embarrassingly significant amount of satisfaction while thinking about how wrong he’d been.
I found myself thinking about that former boss for a different reason this week, though, after I stumbled across an interview with Jeremy Lin.
The former NBA guard was hurt by something one of his former coaches had said. He carried that resentment around for years until he finally started working with a sports psychologist, who instructed him to reach out to the coach.
I wrote a full account of Lin’s experience here:
This got me thinking about my former boss.
He was the guy who hired me, fresh out of college, to work at ESPN.com. He not only offered me the chance to relocate to the company’s headquarters in Connecticut but also got the company to pay my moving expenses. They transported my little red truck for me.
While my boss could certainly have been more tactful in discussing my decision to leave, I don’t think he was being malicious when he told me I was making a mistake.
I can see why I took it personally. But I also never let him know. I did not sustain the relationship.
The last time I talked to that editor was 2002.
He had left ESPN by then, too, and he was working on the sports section of a newspaper. He called to ask if I would write a freelance story on a high-school football game. I politely declined, having just been promoted to an NBA beat.
I need to give him a call. In fact, I don’t even need to bring up what bothered me back then. I’m already past it.
Is there some perceived slight or disrespect that you’ve held on to for years without ever letting the other person know?
I’m relying on my memory here, which I believe is better than average but is certainly not photographic. Also: The conversation in question occurred in spring 1999. Consider it my best approximation of what was said.
I tend to do the the same thing. Rarely, is offense intended. I would say almost never is offense intended. I want to get to a place were I never take offense. I would like to get more of your insight as to how one can reach the that place. This is an interesting and important article. Thanks, Richard Metcalf