Pressing that replay button in my brain
Do you ever find yourself replaying a conversation, sometimes minutes after it happens or maybe the next morning while brushing your teeth, wondering if you came off the wrong way? Yeah. Same.
I’m that person who will mentally dissect a random, 45-second interaction for way too long. And I don’t just mean the big stuff.
Not the heavy convos, the hard family talks, the high-stakes business meetings or even the “we-need-to-talk” moments. Nope. I’m talking about the forgettable, insignificant interactions that probably didn’t even register for the other person.
But for me? Oh, they’re front and center. Why did I say it like that? Did I make it weird? Was I trying to give a compliment but accidentally sounded sarcastic or awkward? Ugh.
And don’t get me started on the pre-conversations I have in my head. I write full scripts. Plot lines. Side characters. And spoiler alert: the other person never follows the version I’ve created in my brain. It’s like, can you not read the room I imagined for us?
Now, while I’m not going to divulge what exactly sparked this article (because… boundaries and also self-preservation), let me give you an example that has literally lived rent-free in my head for over a decade.
Picture this: I was cast as an extra in a movie with Nicole Kidman (yes, that Nicole Kidman). One day, I find myself in an elevator with her and the director. She smiles at me and says, “How was your lunch?” And what do I say? Do I keep it casual? Friendly? Professional?
Nope.
I look her dead in the eyes and say, “Good. Breakfast was better.” Are. You. Kidding. Me.
What does that even mean? Why did I say that? I can guarantee that the elevator could not have pinged fast enough for them to get off. And you better believe that moment has played on loop in my head more times than I can count.
And here’s the kicker — I’ve been on the other side of those kinds of interactions. I’ve gotten those next-day texts from people saying, “Hey, I hope I didn’t come across the wrong way” or “I’ve been thinking about what I said.”
And truthfully? Most of the time I hadn’t thought twice about it. I didn’t take it weird. I didn’t overanalyze. So it makes me wonder… maybe we’re all just a little too in our heads, thinking the spotlight’s still on us when it’s long since moved on.
Now, before anyone I love starts spiraling, thinking I’m talking about our recent convo — I’m not. Trust me, if you and I are close, you would’ve told me right away if I said something off. These aren’t the deep, meaningful, you-know-me-well conversations. These are the passing, forgettable, why-are-you-still-thinking-about-this kind.
And what really gets me? The people who don’t do this. You know them — the ones who move through life, say what they say and just… let it go. What a magical way to exist. I genuinely want to know how your brain does that. Because mine? Mine likes to hang on for dear life and analyze every syllable. And then there’s the other side of the spectrum: the people who say whatever they want, however they want, and somehow feel zero responsibility for how it lands. Is it that they’ve made peace with the chaos they leave behind? Or are they just not thinking about it at all?
The ones who double down with, “That’s not what I meant,” instead of, “I can see how that came across,” really throw me. The idea that intent is the only thing that matters? That tone, delivery and empathy don’t play a part? I struggle with that.
So now I’m curious — are you like me? A conversation replayer, a pre-convo scriptwriter, an “oh no, did I make that awkward?” kind of person? Or are you one of the people I secretly envy, who can walk away from a conversation and just… be done with it?
Do you think it’s all about intent, or does how we say something matter just as much?
And if this whole thing sounds completely exhausting to you. First off, congratulations on your peaceful inner life. Second, please share your secrets. Like, seriously. I’ll take notes. Also… sorry for the rant. Clearly, this one’s still a little raw. That’s from me to you.
Mother, author, entrepreneur and founder of Dandelion-Inc, Lisa Resnick wants to hear your story. Share memories with her by emailing lisa@dandelion-inc.com.