The FIVE LESSONS I learned from GETTING MUGGED in Broad Daylight
My friend Kiley says that every time I step outside in L.A., it’s like magical fairy dust is sprinkled around me: I walk everywhere wearing a big smile, marveling at my surroundings and my life, my heels practically clicking together with how happy I am here.
That day was no different: I took a work break at around 2 p.m., walked up to Whole Foods, then strolled back home with my face to the sun like a plant photosynthesizing, my shopping tote filled with groceries on one arm, and my tote from The Strand bookstore (with “A Well-Read Woman is a Dangerous Creature” emblazoned on the front - oh, the irony) holding my phone, wallet, keys, and a few more groceries on the other.
The hard punch to the center of my back sent me tumbling forward with a guttural “OOF” as the wind was knocked out of me.
I reeled around in total shock, thinking I got hit by a falling tree limb or something.
My attacker and I were almost nose to nose. He was around my height, entirely concealed (hat, hoodie, sunglasses, face covering), and there was an eerie pause as we stood there, motionless for a beat, one of his hands gripping my arm (which later had a handprint-shaped bruise), his other hand holding the strap of my Strand bag.
He gave the strap a little pull, as if to say, “Let’s not make this harder than we have to - give me the goddamn bag.”
But I was utterly frozen. I honestly didn’t feel fear; and I simply couldn’t move. I must’ve inadvertently clutched the Strand bag even closer (as my severely strained bicep would later attest) because he hit me again, yanking the bag as hard as he could, breaking the strap as I fell, and then he ran.
On the ground, surrounded by broken pasture-raised organic eggs and a shattered container of full-fat Greek yogurt, I still couldn’t move. I stared after the guy, agape, as he ran back toward his partner in crime at the end of the block. I heard car doors slam and the car peel off and I finally picked myself up and started walking toward my apartment, where I ran into people who took one look at my heaving sobs, limp, and the blood pouring out of my elbow, and stopped me, alarmed, to ask if I needed help.
***
My first instinct is to minimize this whole experience, brushing it off by saying, “I’m fine” or “It could’ve been so much worse” or “At least they didn’t have weapons.”
It’s hard for me to say it out loud, but it was an assault and a traumatic one at that - something I’ve never come close to experiencing in my life (nor, for that matter, in 22 years living in NYC where I walked home solo at all hours of the day and night).
My relentless optimism took a hit just like my body and mind did.
That being said, I learned a lot from the experience:
1 - The amount of human kindness and concern and care shown to me from about two minutes after the attack through some of the stressful logistics stuff I had to handle afterwards to today simply blows my mind. From the people who helped me on the street right after it happened: hugging me, administering first aid, waiting for an hour with me while the cops did their thing, and doing so much more; to my neighbor in my building who let me use his phone for hours on end before mine was replaced and continued to check on me every day; to the stranger in Verizon who wanted to buy me a brand new phone when the person behind the counter refused to verify my identity without my photo ID (which had been stolen) and restore my cell service and as a result I burst into uncontrollable sobs; to my friends and family who alternated between endless check-ins and love…and also plans to hop on a flight to L.A. and hunt down the person who did this to me and exact some vigilante justice. I could go on and on.
I learned that the good far, FAR outweighs the bad in everything, especially humanity.
2 - What happened to me was not okay. I don’t usually to admit to or dwell in pain, fear, vulnerability, or weakness and in that moment and the ones following, I was all of those things.
I learned that it’s okay to not be okay. And it’s okay to ask for help in ways big and small from those around me and the people who love me.
3 - I’ve never been one to sit still and just “be.” Relaxation for me is doing things like learning a new language, reading an entire nonfiction book, playing hours of pickleball, doing a hard workout, then going out with my friends…all in the same afternoon. For one of the first times in my life, I spent a week floating through life: I didn’t work out, I set most of my professional work aside, I slept in past my usual 5 a.m. wakeup time, and I watched a couple of mindless TV series.
I learned something I’ve known in the back of my mind from playing sports all my life, but that applies to everything, especially a rough time: allowing (sometimes forcing) myself to truly rest and recover is vital.
3 - I can see how easy it would be to give in to despair and slide headfirst down a rabbit hole of anger and bitterness, and for a minute, I did. But somewhere in there, the baseline peace and contentment that I’ve worked hard to build in myself popped up again. Perspective is everything, and it’s a choice: I could choose to look at things one way, and see a dark and dangerous world where I’m unsafe. Or, I can choose to see a world in which I’m blanketed by love and kindness and light (have I mentioned how perfect the weather in California is?!), and go from there.
I learned that for me, it’s important to continue to be “the lighthouse” as Mel Robbins describes it, for both myself and for others, especially in dark times.
4 - In both my consulting and coaching work, I believe everything starts with insight.
I learned that awareness is important in a 360-degree kind of way: to know myself, and to know my surroundings (in both the literal and metaphorical kind of way). No time like the present to wake up, observe, and take in what’s going on both externally and internally.
5 - These days, a lot of scientists and thinkers are extolling the virtues of regularly doing hard or uncomfortable things in life (think stuff like public speaking if you’re not a fan, or trying out a challenging new hobby) in order to build resilience overall. Says Dr. Andrew Huberman, “The reason to deliberately do hard things is so that when non-self-elected challenges arrive (and they will), you can tell yourself: ‘I don’t know how this is all going to turn out, but I am certain I can do hard things.’ Don’t self injure. But doing hard things is always worthwhile.”
I learned that a gut punch (or punch in the back) can come out of nowhere, and does in life, with a fair amount of frequency. But outside of the most extreme cases, we always survive. Being strong and having a bright outlook doesn’t mean we won't feel the pain or won't get knocked down (again and again!), but being resilient means we’ll get up, and get through it. We can do hard things!
P.s. A word to the wise: ditch the noise-canceling earbuds when you’re walking around, or at least wear just one instead of two!