A few years ago a friend looked me right in the eye. "I want to tell you something," she said. "I want to tell you what your thing is."
"Um," I said. "My thing...?"
"Yes. Everyone has a thing standing in your way, stopping you, that everyone can see but you. And you need someone in your life who's honest enough to tell you what it is. I want to do that for you."
"Yes!"I said. "Please do."
My friend nodded. She took a breath, and then she told me, "Bonnie, stop fucking with your hair and get a boyfriend with a job."
So. Was that my thing (my two things...)? Arguably yes, if you had met that boyfriend, and seen that hair. It's reminiscent of that drunk character who leans over across the table, cigarette trailing ashes, and slurs, "Wanna know whut yerrrr problem is?" But I loved her theory and I loved that she clearly wanted to help and told the truth as she saw it. I started telling this story. Some people immediately broke in and demanded to know their own thing.
Once, as I told the tale, yet another friend interrupted to say she knew My Thing. "You always think you're right." And I guess it didn't surprise her when I disagreed.
"I think maybe that's a different question." I said.
"No, no. That is Your Thing."
"I think that's more like, The Thing About Me That Annoys You the Most." For the record, I do know my thing: focus. God, focus. But I did drastically reduce the hair fuckery.
Do you know Your Thing? Would you want to hear the answers if you asked? It's a revelatory but dangerous game, people. Play it with someone you trust.