It is One thinga column with advice for living.
It started when I wrote an angry email to my insurance company. It looked like they were going to deny coverage for some medical tests that I was sure they were supposed to pay for. When I complained about this to my therapist, I explained that I was going to send him a response like: Listen, corrupt clowns, I’ve already sent you the forms you requested five times, so this is obviously just a typical ruse to get out of paying.
He reminded me that I can be a bit of a hothead and impatient. His advice was to write a response, then wait eight hours before sending it. Waiting would allow me to process the actual information in the insurance company’s message and calm down. More importantly, being in a less reactive state would give me a better chance of achieving my actual goal – getting medical coverage – instead of just insulting a customer service member. Since my longtime therapist’s behavioral approach had already helped me master my personality enough to quit smoking and drinking and marry a great man, I decided to try his suggestion. The email I ended up sending began: “Thank you very much for your help with this complicated matter. » The insurance ended up reimbursing me in full.
Ah! I realized that responding to complicated requests or issues angrily or hastily was never smart, so I respected his rule of slowing down my response time by eight hours for future correspondence.
This is useful in situations that stir up all kinds of strong emotions, not just anger. Most recently, an ex-boyfriend I hadn’t seen in years emailed me a request for a $4,000 loan. He had been sick, so I was worried he might need money for something serious. Couldn’t he afford medical care? We dated after college; I had always felt guilty about ending the relationship. I was wondering if I could afford to lose the $4,000. What if he died before paying back?
Remembering my therapist’s mandate, I didn’t respond right away. Just because someone contacted me doesn’t mean I respond instantly. A few hours later, my ex shared more information unprompted, revealing that he needed money because a Russian woman he was in a relationship with couldn’t pay her son’s (who lived in Moscow!) school fees. What a scam. I told him, refusing to comply and letting him know that he shouldn’t give the money he needed to borrow.
I was glad I kept my rule. Now I try to slow down any complicated or heated email correspondence for at least a day, sometimes a weekend. If you’re like me, eight hours may seem like a long time, but it’s not, and waiting can be like giving a nice gift to yourself.
Gn bussni
