Have you ever cried in a fast food drive thru?

Dear Applied EQ-ers,

How are you? Really, how are you?

If your life was a car, what would the dashboard look like right now?

Are you truckin’ along with all systems go? Or is your check engine light on, signaling something is not quite right?

I think it’s funny how we talk about adults expressing big emotions as having “breakdowns” just like malfunctioning cars. Unfortunately, being an adult does not exempt one from experiencing big (and super inconvenient) emotions just like kids.

My life’s check engine light came on last week.

In a fast food drive thru line.

It was not pretty.

I was picking up a catering order for my son’s preschool teachers. I wanted to do something nice for them because, without them, my life would not work. Do chicken minis represent the deep gratitude I feel for the teachers helping love and raise my son? Probably not. But in my mind, those chicken minis held a lot of existential meaning.

I drove through the line ready to get the order I’d diligently placed two days prior (my 4.9 conscientiousness coming in strong). I gave the restaurant employee my name, and she said no order had been placed.

I’m not sure why, but upon hearing this news, something in me broke.

I panicked.

I tried to work it out with the employee over the speaker, but she asked me to continue in the line and speak with the employees at the window. Smart move on her part. I was in no place to problem-solve.

As I waited in the line, freaking out that my son’s teachers would not get the tray of chicken minis I had promised them, my panic turned outward. It had not yet occurred to me to consider some of the big feelings I had. I just reacted.

I called my husband to (unconsciously) offload some of my emotion. He was understandably confused by my panic. My favorite line of his from our conversation was: “Why are you being so mean to me?”

Why was I being so mean to him? Why was I panicking over a tray of chicken minis?

My life’s check engine light was trying to get my attention, and it had made itself known.

My husband placed a new order through the app for me, so I was able to pull over and wait for the food in the parking lot. I sat there quietly in my car and checked in with myself. I knew I was massively overreacting. I knew this wasn’t really about the chicken minis. I was hurting.

I took a deep breath and realized I felt grief. And because sadness and grief scare me, I tend to not pay attention when they come calling. I’d much rather lose it in the drive thru and off load anger onto others than to face myself and my true feelings.

I gave a big sigh and let tears roll out. I let myself feel what my body was trying to feel. It washed over me. And afterwards, I felt better. I didn’t drown in it or get lost. I just let it happen.

I called my husband to apologize. I told him, “I just broke for a minute. I don’t know why it happened here and now. I’m sorry.” His voice softened. We eventually laughed about the absurdity of feeling something as serious as grief in a place as ridiculous as a drive thru.

This moment actually represents growth for me. Before learning to pay attention to my feelings, I would have just repressed my grief. I would have kept taking my hurt out on others without awareness or repair. At least now I know how to pay attention when my life’s check engine light comes on, to pause, and then to decide how to proceed.

Where does land for you today?

Are there signals on your life’s dashboard that could use some attention? You are not alone.

Adam talks about one of his “check engine light” moments in this course intro. If you can relate, you might enjoy his online course for educators on nurturing wellness. Let’s connect.

Applying EQ with you, Elizabeth Eason Martin

What is your “check engine light” story? Please comment below or share your story with Elizabeth at Elizabeth@appliedeqgroup.com .