When was the last time you talked to someone on the phone?
This past Friday I was down in the dumps, but a phone call from my brother made everything better and now I’m yearning to check in with loved ones by listening to them, not just mindlessly reading their messages through a screen.
Generally, phone calls heighten my anxiety. I've gotten so used to texting at the speed of lightning that I can quickly shoot someone a text with my eyes closed. Even switching between different keyboards doesn't slow me down. But when the phone rings, my heart skips a beat because I'm not used to hearing it go on and on. I always assume it’s my timer reminding me my sweet potatoes are done baking, but there’s always that ten percent chance it’s actually my brother calling. If it’s him, I make an exception to pick up and see what's up.
Sergey always calls people. He calls nearly five people daily and sometimes even the same person five times.
He lives in the boonies, so it makes sense why he chooses to call. Texting back-and-forth already takes too long and if you're like him, spending half the day outside working on home projects, then you definitely wouldn't be texting. He's one of the few people in my life that calls me and the thing I love most about his calls is how randomly much-needed they are. His simple genuine questions about how I've been holding up and what I'm doing make me feel so loved. He's planning on moving soon and although the distance between us is going to be the farthest it's ever been, knowing he's just a phone call away is comforting.
He and I weren't close when I was younger. As a matter of fact, he was never home. He frequently spent time with friends and worried my parents, who constantly called him to inquire about his whereabouts. Back then, he actually rarely phoned. A rare call from him was to notify our parents about his delinquent activities...Like, the time he "borrowed" my dad's car and then crashed it.
It made sense why Sergey and I didn't have much of a relationship. I knew he was into impetuous escapades and being the perfect youngest child, I kept my distance.
But as I got older and explored new avenues of life, the distance between us shrank over time. Although he's a decade older than me, our life trajectory haphazardly lined-up together. While living on his own, hustling and getting his Master’s, I was learning independence and getting my Bachelor's. During my early college years, I remember despairingly crying to him over the phone about how boys were dumb and full of false promises. Our phone calls usually included him patiently listening as I laid everything out and then me begrudgingly accepting his drilling into my brain that guys just mature differently.
More often though, we'd get philosophical about life, discussing God, life paths, but no matter how silly or serious our talks were, he left me feeling content with where I was. Soon after our conversation, I’d forget about the crush I was sad about.
Maybe it's the psychologist in him, but Sergey puts into words what I'm going through and provides tangible solutions without discounting my problems no matter how large or small they seem.
He’s a mind-reader of some sort because he concluded from our recent conversation (which by the way, wasn’t about a crush) that my internalization of false beliefs about myself prevents me from pursuing what I want.
“You’re doing everything right. From what I’ve seen, you’re doing great things. Just keep at it until some company hires you for you,” he softly said.
His words relieved me so much because imposter syndrome took over me when I didn’t get the job I finally interviewed for two weeks ago. Deep down, I knew it wasn’t for me, but it hurt realizing I have many skills left to learn. The perfectionist in me wants to get everything right the first time, but as Sergey said, it’ll take time, patience, and perseverance to get a job where the hiring team sees something in me that they’d like me to contribute.
I claimed I wasn’t discouraged about getting rejected. And truthfully, I wasn’t, but the discouragement laid in the fact that I applied to 30 jobs and my first callback didn’t land me anywhere. Doubts, like “Am I not capable enough?” or “What’s the point of even applying to anything?” crept in.
Sergey is a big fan of painting pictures to illustrate his point. He suggested I change my perspective about this setback, that in actuality was disguised as a symbol of growth. He said how this time of job-searching is all about casting a net into the sea–applying to a plethora of positions with different companies. Like fish, these companies aren’t all going to latch on to what I’m throwing them. But some company or organization out there will like what I showcase and hopefully, I’ll reel them in with my talents.
Right now, everything seems pointless to me. I’m applying to positions, finally blogging and this finally feels like something, but I’m also terrified. I’m terrified I won’t land anywhere, that what I’m blogging about isn’t at all interesting, and I’m terrified of giving up.
But getting a call from my brother, who put everything into words for me, helped me let go of the pressure I put on myself.
His last words were something along the lines of learning to let go of all my internalized doubts and fears and to remain grateful for where I’m at and what I have at this moment.
On the line with him, I couldn’t pinpoint anything to show appreciation for because my brain was clouded in negativity: my joblessness and imposter syndrome. But after we said our goodbyes and I love you’s, I hung up the phone and was certainly grateful for having a brother that loves phone calls.
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