How to stop creating problems that don't exist

I'm racking up more inventions than Edison.

Last week, I wrote about how I was complicit in creating the conditions I said I didn’t want at work.

Turns out, I don’t have to look far to find examples of this in my personal life as well.

Let me explain…

A bit before Christmas, I had a bit going on.

Too much on my plate, not enough time, and absolutely no bandwidth to come up with a witty third thing to round this out.

In these moments of overwhelm, a normal, well-adjusted person might think, “ok how can I get a timeout for a bit of mental clarity?”, “How can I reduce the number of things weighing on my mind?”

But normal, well-adjusted people don’t feel the need to wear hats that say “De Nada”.

The hat doth protests too much

Instead of meditating or touching some grass, I decided to cloud my mind further by getting upset at a friend for not contacting me, to check-in if I was going okay.

(Remember: I had the monopoly on being very busy, right before Christmas.)

In my head, I pieced together this narrative: “He’s ignoring me. He doesn’t care.”

I sat there, growing more annoyed, frustrated, and hurt, but never actually voiced what I was feeling.

I was convinced that this unsuspecting friend should have known to reach out. I mean, how could he not? Wasn’t it obvious?

When is a gay latino not obvious about his feelings?

This might happen to you.

Someone does something that bugs you, and you don’t bring it up.

Maybe you tell yourself it’s not a big deal, or you don’t want to rock the boat, or you assume the other person should already know what’s wrong.

But they don’t know. They’re not a mindreader.

And if they were, they wouldn’t be wasting time with your telenovela. They would be guessing the daily Wordle first try, every time.

I’ve had it with the condescending “Phew”

So, nothing changes.

Meanwhile, you’ve built this entire conversation in your head about what they should have said or should have done.

And you go on thinking it’s okay not to say anything. You figure, you can hold out until one of you eventually dies.

But the longer it goes unaddressed, the more your frustration grows. By the end of it, you’re so worked up. All because of something you never actually said.

Congratulations, you just invented a problem.

Author Neil Strauss says, “Unspoken expectations are premeditated resentments.”

We think we’re being noble by keeping quiet. We tell ourselves that we’re sparing someone’s feelings or avoiding drama.

But we’re just creating drama. So why do we do it to ourselves?

Often, we just scared. Scared of being vulnerable. Scared of being misunderstood. Scared of being seen as a gay latino stereotype.

But you know what’s worse than the temporary discomfort of an honest conversation? Letting that unspoken expectation fester until it poisons the whole relationship.

Resentment doesn’t stay small. It grows. And when it explodes, it’s a mess for everyone involved.

Breaking this pattern isn’t easy. If you’re anything like me, your first instinct is to keep the peace and hope the other person magically figures out what you’re thinking.

But here’s what I’m starting to learn: clarity beats silence every time.

So next time you feel yourself getting annoyed at someone, stop and ask, “Do they actually know why I’m upset?”

If the answer is no, you have a choice:

1. Give them the benefit of the doubt (and yourself some peace), or…

2. Tell them and for whatever you do, try not to turn it into an attack. Say something like, “Hey, this thing is on my mind, and I just wanted to talk about it.”

It’s not groundbreaking, but it works.

Unspoken expectations are unfair to the other person and self-sabotaging for you.

So next time you’re quietly seething, maybe ask yourself: “Am I mad at them, or am I mad at this imaginary version of them in my head?”

And then say something.

It might feel awkward, but at least you’ll be dealing with the real person - not the one you’ve invented in your little resentment spiral.

And by opening up you could save unnecessary fallout, fallout that wastes more of the time and energy you didn’t have in the first place.

Phew!