If your brain beats you up over very stupid stuff, tell it to

shove it. I have sudoku shame.

I make myself feel so bad. Speaking of

stupid things my brain does to me on the regular.

All right, here we go. I'm gonna pretend I'm pushing record 'cause that feels right.

Okay, I'm pressing record. Boop. Hi

everybody, I'm Lauren Howard. Welcome to Different

Not Broken, which is our podcast on exactly that,

that there are a lot of people in this world walking around feeling broken, and

the reality is you're just different, and that's fine. I like to

eat sandwiches that normal people eat, like, for

lunch for breakfast. I don't usually eat actual breakfast food.

I'd eat, like, turkey and cheese sandwiches, which isn't that far

off from a breakfast food in the US, at least. But anyway, and so I

was making the sandwich, and there's nothing like

eating salami at, like, 6

o'clock in the morning. Like, it sets the tone for the day.

And I did regret it afterward. I was like, I think I'm officially too old

for this kind of garlic at 6 o'clock in the morning. But anyway, so I

have just like the turkey sandwich that I eat all the time,

I have a very specific salami sandwich that I

eat, which is salami, usually kosher salami,

on white bread with mayonnaise, and that's it.

That's it. And I

cannot tell you when I started eating it. Actually, that's not true.

That's not true. We were on vacation

when I was a teenager, and it was the only thing that we had in

the whole, like, little suite we were in. For some reason, my mom

bought a, like, a log of salami. I don't know. Anyway,

so I made a sandwich and I was like, this is good. And then I

proceeded to eat that forever. So anyway, one time

I'm making my sandwich and I did not realize that my dad was standing in

the kitchen with me. And he looks at me and he's

like, "What kind of sandwich is that?" And I was like, "Salami."

He goes, "Wait, like salami

on what?" He's like, "That's white bread." And I

said, "Yeah, salami on white bread with—"

mayonnaise. And he goes, salami

on white bread, white bread with mayonnaise.

And I was like, yeah, that's how I like my sandwich. And he looks me

straight in the face and goes, that's antisemitic, and just walks away.

I was like, well,

I'm just I'm gonna, just gonna eat my hate sandwich then. It's just

how I like to eat my sandwich. Apparently it was supposed to

be on rye bread with mustard, which— ew.

Ew. I don't mind mustard. Not on that sandwich. I don't want mustard on

that sandwich. But rye bread, I can't do it. I understand that there's

something wrong with my DNA coding that I,

as a Jew person, cannot eat rye bread, but I do not like rye bread.

It tastes like feet. Tastes like if you mixed

feet with unground grain.

I don't like rye bread. Sorry. So anyway,

that was when my dad nearly disowned me over a sandwich.

My dad loved me so much that he allowed

me to live in his house despite my questionable choices. That should really

be the punchline. So I have a genuine question about

why brains are weird, or why they're weird in this way particularly.

Or maybe this is just my brain. I don't know. Why

does my brain think I hate water? Not like water in a swimming

pool, like water in a cup. Because I swear to you,

I will go somewhere and have a glass of ice water, and it will be

like, what is this delicacy? And how do I get more of

it? This is delicious. And then

I go home and it's time to get something to drink and I'm like, blah,

water, blah, I don't want that, blah. Or like,

I have a fridge full of seltzer. I like seltzer. I like flavorless

seltzer, just water and bubbles. It's a very

Jewish thing. It's— I've drank seltzer my whole life.

I really enjoy it. I don't

want that. And then I drink it, and I'm like, this is amazing. Why don't

I have this more often? Why does my brain

think that I don't like water? Why is it

that— that it's like, you definitely need to drink something

full of sugar and other

carcinogens, probably,

instead of going to the fridge that is that

like literally has access to cold filtered

water that is delicious every time I drink it. You put a little

ice in there and it's like, it's amazing. It's every, I

rediscover it all the time. I'm like, this is so good. I should drink it

more. And then the next day I'm like, blah,

blah. Why does my brain do this? Does your brain do this about

anything, particularly water, but anything? I need to know.

Because I don't— I just, I would save myself a lot of time and money

if I would just go to the fridge and get water. But I think about

drinking water and I'm like, "Blah, gross." And then I drink it and I'm like,

"Oh, this is quite nice. This is so refreshing. This is certainly more

refreshing than the big gulp of

aspartame that my brain wants to drink." And

so anyway, I just need to know why that happens. And if somebody could fix

it, that'd be great. Speaking of stupid things my brain does to me

on the regular, once you start noticing them, it's like everything's a stupid

thing your brain does to you. And I unfortunately have been paying attention to these

lately, so this is fun. So

I, LinkedIn has those like little games that you can play

now. They're like little, and it used to be

that they weren't connected to anybody. You would play them and other

people would play them, but there wasn't like a leaderboard or anything. And you also

don't have to participate in the leaderboard. Also, nobody pays attention

to the leaderboard, but there are, I think there

are 4 of them that I play. They usually take like 30

seconds a day. This is not like, this is not like me devoting an

hour to solving logic puzzles every day. Like my life is a logic

puzzle. I don't need to spend that much time doing ones that are created for

me, but it is kind of fun to just go on there and

Whatever. And usually they're very quick and they scratch my brains

in the way my brain needs to be scratched. And it's, it's very nice. And

I always like to be under the daily average. So like if

the daily average was 35 seconds, if I'm 34 seconds or less, I'm

solid. And not that it matters, but like that's how I

don't wanna be longer than the daily average. So most of them I like blow

the daily average outta the water cuz I am I am very good

at logic puzzles and nothing else. And so most of them I'm like

way under, but they added a mini Sudoku

in the last, I don't even know how long it's been a little while now,

but they added one. I'm pretty bad at the

Sudoku. Like I think I put way

too much thought into it and it makes me very slow with the Sudoku. I

figure it out. Don't get me wrong, I get there. But

every day I finish the Sudoku and like brace myself

because I'm like, oh my God, I'm gonna be so— I'm gonna be so much

higher than the average. Oh my God, I'm gonna be mortified. And then I'm like

a minute— like the average is 1 minute and 52 seconds and I'm like 2

minutes and 45 seconds. And I'm like, this is the end, this is the end,

my life is over. How could I possibly— nobody sees

my fucking Sudoku speed. No one

knows that I completed the Sudoku. Even if it goes on a

leaderboard, no one's checking it. It's not like—

there's no— there I am. I am like deeply mortified

every day, so much so that I don't even want to play it. Not because

I don't enjoy it, but because I am

not fast enough at the Sudoku. This should not

matter. The shame that I carry, and I wish I was

joking about this, I have Sudoku shame.

I make myself feel so bad because I'm not

fast enough at the Sudoku, and I have to have like a pep talk

every day. Like, that's just not how the brain works. That's

okay. There's nothing wrong with that. Nobody else can do

the snake one in 8 seconds. I can do the snake one in 8

seconds. That should be enough, right?

But the idea of some stranger on the

internet knowing that I am inept at the

Sudoku gives me a great sense of

shame. Great enough that I almost don't do the

Sudoku some days. And that is silly. It

should not matter. Sudoku shame is not a thing.

My brain is creating that. My brain is making me feel bad.

For academia just to see what happens. There is

no— there's no value to this thing. But

every day I get done with it and I'm like, is this the day that

I finally beat it? Then occasionally I do and I'm like,

I'm getting good at it. And then the next day it

doesn't matter. It's a brain game. It's just proving that my brain works.

Brains that work slow still work.

There's no additional value to my life or to my own person because I

can do the Sudoku quickly. It's not a thing. It's not a

thing. Anyway, if your brain beats you up over very

stupid stuff, tell it to shove it.

And you can take as long to do the Sudoku as you want, and that

is more for my need to hear it than it is for yours, but you

should also take it with you. It's

just do the Sudoku. It's good for your brain. It might not be good

for your ego, but it's good for your brain.

That happened this morning. I was really disappointed in myself. It took me a long

time to do the Sudoku. I was like, LinkedIn people are

smarter than I am.

Either that or they just are better at picking random numbers that happen to

fit into the mini Sudoku.

And now we'll go to Allison, who has this week's

Small Talk. Okay, so we have a question from

Devin in Pasadena, California.

I'm scared of being seen trying. I'll work really

hard in private, but the moment something becomes visible,

I want to disappear. How do you let people see you without feeling

exposed or ridiculous?

Man, do I feel this. This is like my whole vibe.

Like, first off, if I'm not immediately good at something, I don't wanna do it.

I don't wanna try again. Like, and I see my 7-year-old doing that all the

time and I'm like, oh, that's not great. Don't do that. Like if, if I

have to work really hard at something, I immediately assume I'm a failure because I

wasn't just good at it on the first try, which is like a thing. But

I have always struggled, always,

with the idea of looking like I

think I'm good at something, something that like requires talent

and that requires trying and it requires vulnerability.

Because what if you're not good at it?

What if, like, what if you decide you

want to sing in front of a bunch of people and then you end up

not being a good singer? Or, or

why would— like, what if you made the presumption that somebody wanted to

listen to you sing and you were wrong? How mortifying.

That's how I felt. I'm not saying that that's actually true. That's how I always

felt, is like going out of your comfort zone— not

even out of your comfort zone, doing something that requires

eyeballs on you makes the assumption

that you think you have something to give them, something to offer them that

they might want to take and, or

they might want to consume. And that is

that level of vulnerability. And I say this as somebody who literally shares my

entire life into a microphone multiple times a week. That level of vulnerability

feels like the end of the actual world to me, or at least it did.

In some ways it still does.

I think you're coming at it from the wrong perspective.

I think it's not about figuring out how to not feel ridiculous,

and it's about just getting comfortable feeling ridiculous.

Like, you're gonna feel ridiculous all the time. I do it constantly.

But what is the logical outcome? Or like, what's the

worst thing that comes from you feeling ridiculous? Somebody else thinks

you're ridiculous? Okay, fuck 'em.

Most people don't care. Most people are not paying attention

or they're like, it takes way too much thought to put emotional

investment into whatever you are doing. They're busy paying attention to their

own stuff. Nobody's paying attention to you. I actually learned this when I

very, very start— first started sharing content on the

internets, which was mortifying to me. And please

note, I'm talking into a microphone right now that's going to get

posted on the internet. So that was our starting point.

I was like, people are gonna read this and they're gonna be mortified that

I— they're gonna be mortified on my behalf that I thought

I had anything to say. They're gonna be like, who is this chick?

Why should I give a crap about what she has to say? She should be

so embarrassed. And someone very early

on said to me,

You're not doing things because you're worried about what people are going to think, and

they are not thinking about you. They don't

care. There is nothing that you are doing that they give a

shit about. And if you do anything big enough

that they give a shit about, you've done something huge.

People are not paying attention to you. And also,

if they are paying attention to you, just to say something

shitty, why do you care about their opinion if that's the type of

people they are? So you just get used

to feeling ridiculous. It's not a bad feeling.

In fact, once you get used to feeling ridiculous and being comfortable with it, it's

actually kind of fun. There's a lot of, you

know, I say this as the person who again, doesn't like to put on

shoes or pants and leave the house, but that's like

That's not because I feel ridiculous doing it. That's not because I feel out of

place. It's because it's a lot of work that I don't want to do.

It's— if you were like, hey, we're

going to go to this place and we're going to do a really stupid thing

and we're going to wear sumo suits and jump around

like crazy people and sumo wrestle in a

giant sumo ring, I'd be like, done. Let's

go do it. Sounds delightful. I'm on board. Because

when you feel ridiculous, it's because you're probably having fun.

You're probably moving outside of your comfort zone. You're

probably doing something that is not anything that

you don't have any sense memory on. You're not just repeating something over and over.

You're doing something new. I don't think it's about figuring out how to not feel

ridiculous. I think it's about figuring out how to do things when you feel ridiculous.

Feel ridiculous, whatever. People who have negative opinions about

that can get bent, and the people who love you will

come be ridiculous with you, and the rest of the people

aren't gonna be paying attention. And why are you making decisions for yourself

over the responses of other people who don't matter? They

don't matter. Go be ridiculous. The world needs a little bit more

ridiculousness that is not tied to an orange wannabe

despot with tiny hands. Go be ridiculous.

He's really sensitive about his tiny hands, so I like to talk about them all

the time. Also his cankles. Come at me,

bro. I'd be much more likely to end up with RFK on one of my

feeds because I talk so much shit about him very directly,

but I'll take either. That would be like—

that's the moment where I would die happy. Is when either of them know

that some random woman with a microphone is talking shit about them

on the internet without fear. Get fucked. All of a

sudden, my birth certificate is nonexistent.