Life & Love. Lisa Messenger

answers were pretty irrelevant, what amazed me was their enthusiasm and eagerness to share their memories.

      Their faces lit up when I quizzed them, they literally jumped out of their chairs and jogged beside our rubber rings so they could finish their stories. It was such a simple moment with a series of strangers, but I like to think we all got a little higher, a little happier, a little smilier from this small interaction. It’s a basic human instinct to want to be heard, ‘seen’ and acknowledged.

      In the age of technology there are a lot of inhibitors that allow, enable and encourage us to be even more withdrawn and isolated – compounding a lack of confidence. We can order anything we need at the click of a button, we can bury our heads in our smartphones if we’re feeling nervous and swap real friendships for social media relationships. I know that if I ever feel wobbly walking into a new environment, it often comes from a feeling of inadequacy. “Why will they want to talk to me? What can I contribute? What do I have to say that’s interesting?”

      Well, here’s the magic flip in mindset. Having a conversation isn’t just about talking, it’s also about listening and, in fact, that second part is far more important. This is the mistake many people make – they feel pressure to perform, to hold the floor, to be the funniest, smartest, wittiest, most entertaining person in the room, in the building, on the planet. Talk about pressure! But I’ve noticed that when I take a listening role in a conversation, ask questions and am really interested in what people are saying, I begin to feel genuinely involved, accepted and appreciated as a participant in that conversation. I now see it as a game – how many new people can I speak to today? They don’t have to be long, drawn-out conversations. When I first got my dog Benny a few years ago, I was amazed at how strangers suddenly started talking to me as we walked along the beach. It was as if my furry prop gave people permission to reach out and connect (I imagine it’s similar when you’re pregnant or have a child). It made me realise how many people are eager to chat – if you give them an icebreaker. I love the awareness campaign by suicide prevention charity RU OK? They believe this simple question can build bridges and create community spirit, by encouraging us all to check in with each other regarding mental illness – without fear of isolation or judgement, no matter the answer.

      It’s not just our family, friends and workmates we can reach out to in every day life. Try it on the guy at the checkout, the stranger in the elevator, the neighbour you’ve only ever nodded to. How’s your day? What have you got planned? I love your coat/shoes/handbag. Practise the art of proactive questioning. That means really listening to their answer, and then responding with real interest, encouragement and openness – rather than just waiting for them to finish so you can impart your next pearl of wisdom.

      That’s not to say you’ll always get it right. I practise listening – purposefully – but everyone zones out sometimes. Years ago I was introduced to a prominent person whose surname began with “Moo…” That’s the only bit I remember now… or could focus on then! A couple of month’s later when I met him again, I couldn’t remember his name. So I confessed, “I’m really trying to remember your name, but all I can think of are cows…” Luckily he laughed and the ice was broken. Confidence takes guts… and a sense of humour! It also takes practice and I still continue to test myself, putting myself in situations that push me outside my comfort zone. If I hadn’t overcome my fear of public speaking, I’d never have.

      STRIP OFF, STAY TRUE

      I recently posted a photo of myself wearing a bikini on Instagram. I’d never done that before and may never do it again, but I was at the beach, the water was beautiful and I was so happy that I wanted to share it. This is the reality of my day, this is the reality of my body (although I sure as hell sucked my gut in for the photo). I’m at that age where people around me start complaining, “Am I getting a bit too wrinkly, am I getting too old, what will people think of me?” I’ve been as insecure about my body as anyone in the past. It’s tough not to be when we live in a culture of comparing, competing and judging, rather than facing our flaws with kindness, compassion – and even admiration.

      One of the reasons I started The Collective was to snap out of this perfectionist mentality. I was sick of seeing airbrushed models in magazines when the reality is so different to the perception, which I’m realising more and more the longer I’m immersed in this industry. I’m not adverse to it either. Look at the photos for this book; I’ve had my hair done, my make-up applied, been dressed by a stylist and made sure the photographer shone a flattering light on me. I don’t wake up like this! But in general, on all occasions, I try to present a true, honest, genuine, fully rounded representation of myself, even though it can feel easier to hide behind a mask of fake stories, exaggeration and empty compliments. Over the years, through much self-exploration and many uncomfortable social situations, I’ve learned that the biggest key to confidence is acceptance. This is me. I am here. What you see is what you get.

      What’s the worst that can happen? When you think about the scenarios that make your stomach twist in knots, what are you really fearful of? Tripping over as you walk through a room full of people? Accidentally offending the host? Having green stuff in your teeth or your dress tucked into your undies? I’ve done them all, and you know what? They’re all pretty funny. The key to overcoming a lack of confidence is not taking yourself too seriously. The reality is that every time I try really hard to look cool, I fail miserably. It takes enough effort to get dressed up, trussed up and go out socialising at the end of a long workweek; I certainly don’t have the energy to pretend to be someone else. And why would anyone want to?

      If you think you’re too old, too clumsy, too boring, too geeky, too loud, too quiet or too ordinary, then just think about all the people whose lives were cut short young, all the people missing from the family gathering, those whose names will never be on the party list, who were denied the privilege of this new experience. If I ever have a moment of self-doubt, I find this sobering thought snaps me back into reality. I can have the courage to say hello. Because it’s sure as hell better than saying goodbye.