Welcome to The Friends Theory, where we use pop culture and story to reframe the way you see your life, work, and what you’re capable of.

This week, we're looking for our imaginary sheep.

3-minute read.

The One Where You Ain’t Pepto Bismol

Insights from “The One with Barry and Mindy's Wedding” (Season 2, episode 24)

🎬 Picture it:
Rachel is going to Barry and Mindy’s wedding. You know, Barry who she almost, and Mindy her maid of….(IYKYK).

Rachel is in her bedroom, psyching herself up to make her entrance. She’s nervous because, well, the bridesmaid dress is….interesting.

Ross, the ever-doting boyfriends says:

And out comes Rachel, looking well….she says it better than I could:

Which right now, is exactly how I feel when I sit down to write any type of public-facing content.

Ever Been Here?

I’m having a bad case of whatever you want to call it: writer’s block, analysis paralysis, “that’s not interesting content”, etc, etc, etc.

I have ideas, thoughts, things to share. I keep a notes document. I review my client calls for insights. I do the things. But recently, when I sit down to actually write…what presents itself is nothing. Nada. Zilch.

I am Rachel in a pink dress looking like little Bo Peep with nothing to say and a whole load of imaginary shame.

At first I thought the problem was that I was trying too hard. Which, in some ways, is true. But I think it’s deeper than that.

I think I’ve become too aware of myself.

The minute I sit down to write, suddenly there’s an imaginary panel of judges in the room with me.

“That’s not insightful enough.”
“That joke’s stupid.”
“Someone’s already said this better.”
“People are going to think you’re rambling.”

Which is ironic, because the whole reason people seem to like this newsletter (so I’ve been told) is because it rambles a bit. It sounds like a person thinking in real time, not some over-polished piece of fake perfection pretending not to have doubts.

I’m thinking more about the imaginary outcome than what’s actually in front of me.

But do I really care? Do I? (sometimes, yes, but isn’t that why I’m writing this?)

Because if people laugh…so what? There’ll always be judgement from somewhere. Why am I volunteering to become my own worst one?

Try This On:

When the judges show up, I try to remind myself of a few things.

Firstly: nobody was forced to sign up for this newsletter or follow me on LinkedIn. They chose to. Which means the people reading your work generally want you to succeed more than they want you to fail.

Second: I tell myself the same thing I tell my creator clients all the time — nobody cares anywhere near as much as you think they do.

Most people are too busy worrying about themselves.

Besides, the people cheering you on? There are probably more of them than you realise.

As for the ones judging: wish them well and be on your way.

And finally: every single time I do put something out there, it feels better than not doing it. The age-old sense of accomplishment is underrated.

Final Thought

In the end, Rachel goes to Barry’s wedding. She overcomes her own embarrassment, accidentally tucks her dress into her knickers, and keeps going.

No one cares as much as you think.

And the right people care more than you think.

So put yourself out there and see what comes back.

Besides, it’s better to walk down the aisle with your bum hanging out than never to have walked at all.

See you next week, Lucy xx

P.S. If you’re feeling like a bottle of Pepto Bismol every time you try to put yourself out there, start here 👇

Thanks for reading The Friends Theory. I appreciate you so much ❤️