Let's start with a confession.
If I'm interested in something...
Good luck getting me to stop talking.
I'll research it.
Read books about it.
Watch documentaries.
Listen to podcasts.
Create spreadsheets.
Buy supplies.
Accidentally build an entire business around it.
I become...
Enthusiastic.
Passionate.
Slightly unhinged.
If I'm not interested?
Well...
That's a different story.
I'm not just mildly bored.
I'm...
Aggressively uninterested.
It's almost impressive.
Most people experience boredom.
My brain experiences...
Protest.
Like a tiny union worker standing in my head holding a picket sign that says,
"WE REFUSE TO PARTICIPATE."
Someone starts explaining football.
My brain clocks out.
Not politely.
Not gradually.
It slams the laptop shut.
Turns off the lights.
Locks the door.
And leaves a note that says,
"We'll be back when somebody starts talking about squirrels or coffee."
Here's what's so frustrating.
I don't choose this.
If I could simply decide to care...
I would.
Life would be so much easier.
Taxes?
I'd care.
Insurance paperwork?
I'd care.
Instruction manuals?
I'd probably even read them.
Imagine the possibilities.
Instead...
My brain treats uninteresting tasks like they're personal attacks.
Fold laundry?
Absolutely not.
Sit through a meeting that could've been an email?
How dare you.
Listen to someone explain cryptocurrency?
I would genuinely rather alphabetize my spice rack.
Which is saying something...
Because I don't even have my spices alphabetized.
The funny thing is...
The exact same brain that refuses to spend ten minutes on something boring...
Will happily spend six straight hours researching whether medieval castles had indoor plumbing.
Don't ask.
I don't know.
It seemed important at the time.
My husband has witnessed this transformation.
One minute I'm practically asleep because someone is explaining printer settings.
The next minute someone mentions ADHD research...
And suddenly I'm delivering a TED Talk nobody requested.
It's like watching someone plug me into a wall outlet.
People sometimes assume this means I'm lazy.
I'm not.
Lazy people don't accidentally spend eight hours building something they're excited about and forget to eat.
Ask me about anxiety.
I'll lose track of time.
Ask me about executive dysfunction.
I'll accidentally write a book.
Ask me about courage.
Cancel your afternoon.
We're going deep.
But ask me to sit through something my brain has labeled,
"Not Interesting."
Friend...
We're negotiating with terrorists.
I've spent years trying to force myself to become interested in things I simply...
Wasn't.
I thought being an adult meant I should be equally engaged by everything.
Turns out...
That's not how my brain works.
Now...
Before anyone misunderstands me...
This doesn't mean I only care about my interests.
Sometimes the people I love are excited about things I know absolutely nothing about.
And because I love them...
I want to hear about it.
That's different.
I'm interested because they're interesting.
Not because I suddenly woke up passionate about lawn fertilizer.
The older I've gotten, the more I've realized that curiosity isn't something I can force.
But respect?
That I can choose.
I can choose to listen.
I can ask questions.
I can be present.
Even if my brain is quietly filing paperwork to leave the meeting early.
So yes...
If I'm interested...
You may have trouble getting me to stop talking.
If I'm not interested...
My brain may stage a dramatic walkout.
Neither one makes me a bad person.
It just means my attention doesn't have an "on" switch and an "off" switch.
It has two settings.
ALL IN...
...or...
"I'd rather watch Kevin the squirrel organize his glitter pants."
Honestly...
I'd probably learn something.
Long live Kevin.
Chief Sparkle Officer.
CEO of Woodland Confidence.
Keeper of the Emergency Confidence Drawer.
Protector of the Glitter Pants.
