Well hello there dear subscriber. It’s been a minute.
In the two weeks since we last connected, a ton of great music found it’s way onto the TMTT playlist, including this, this, this, so much of this, also this, this, this, this, and this song that sent me down an Imogen Heap rabbit hole because they sound v similar. Oh and also a lot of this.
Part of me wants to say I didn’t have time to write for the two weeks I’ve been MIA, but if I’m being honest with myself, I just wasn’t inspired to do it. There was a half-baked thought alluded to in previous newsletters, but every time I tried to put pen to paper, nothing really came of it except a little link pack that’ll hit your inbox next week.
For now, let’s get into something else entirely.
I’m a people pleaser.
I care too much.
It doesn’t matter much if I’ve only just met you or known you for years.
I’m going to tell you a story that taught the anxious, people pleaser in me an important lesson in setting boundaries.
The other day, someone called me out on being a shitty friend and more or less made it quite clear they weren’t interested in being friends any longer.
They were a new friend and they had invited me to something very important to them. Without much thought, I immediately said yes. Not just yes, but an emphatic yes! I even offered to help plan and organize the event. I was excited to have been invited to something that sounded like a fun experience and a first of it’s kind for me. I was also excited at the prospect of diving so deeply into a friendship with someone so quickly. In the moment, it all made sense.
Meanwhile, in the not-so-distant back of mind I thought, “I barely know this person, why am I saying yes to this? Why am I offering to help?” My first mistake was not speaking my truth in this exact moment. A few days later, reality sunk in when the email came through with logistics of the event. If I hadn’t already been on the fence about my emphatic “yes!”, then the price tag and guest list, of which I knew just one person, sealed the deal.
And here, ladies and gentlemen, is where I royally fucked up (again).
My anxiety got the best of me and instead of simply saying, “Hey friend, I know I said I would come to this, but if I’m being honest with myself, I don’t feel comfortable committing to this.” Alas, dear reader, the people pleaser in me and the version of me that often has issues owning up to the consequences of my decisions, dug myself even deeper. I brought up the hefty price tag and the far-too-soon-for-me-to-commit deadline to the organizer and expressed my inability to make a decision right now. The organizer never replied. I thought little to nothing of it. If anything, I felt relief that I had said my piece and punted the decision down the road for “future Nina” to deal with. The damning detail of it all was that I didn’t say anything to the friend who invited me in the first place and let the unanswered text message sit idly.
And so, I let it sit and fester. After a few weeks, I started to notice that the friend who had originally invited me, wasn’t hitting me up as much (read: at all) as they used to. Things became more and more apparent as the weeks went by and eventually I started coming to terms with the truth of the matter. They were avoiding me, and I was too scared to face the music. Too scared to reach out and speak my truth. I was afraid of the repercussions of that conversation because they might get mad at me or worse, their feelings might be hurt because of something I did and I’ll have to hear them express that. The small child in me was not a fan of being reprimanded for screwing something up.
I talked it out with a close friend and they reminded me of a conclusion we came to a few weeks prior about something else entirely..
“…just because you don’t have the conversation, out of fear of the outcome, it doesn’t change the fact that the outcome is already in motion. Not talking about it won’t change the outcome. If anything it probably makes it worse, because you’re either thinking about it unnecessarily and/or the other person is getting even more upset as time goes on.”
And I thought, yeah, you’re right. And yet, I did nothing.
Then the text came. In so many words it said, “Hey you handled this poorly and I’m uninviting you.” They even apologized to me for being distant! I was mortified.
I’d waited and waited and waited. I waited long enough to forget that a decision had to be made at all. And then, the decision was made for me. And in response, I spiraled into a hole of self-remorse, guilt and shame.
But why?
Because although this person was not a close friend, for whom I’d otherwise feel intense fear of loss, they were still a human being who’d extended an invitation to a deeply personal event and in response, regardless of who or how they are, I behaved in a way that wasn’t aligned with my personal level of respect. I should have told her how I was feeling about the event, that I couldn’t commit, even though she may have reacted poorly. I should have done that. But I didn’t.
Immediately, like literally moments after I received the text, I reached out to a friend seeking guidance. They said, and I’m paraphrasing, “it’s not a big deal, just say you understand and respect the decision and move on.” But that felt wrong. Instead, I compulsively replied to the text and left a long, winding apology along with an unnecessary explanation of why I did what I did. I expressed a number of things that frankly, didn’t matter and didn’t change the circumstances of the situation, but I said them in an effort to alleviate my feelings of guilt.
A few hours later, feeling no sense of true relief after sending my deeply apologetic and self deprecating voice note, I reached out to another friend, who is incredibly logical, seeking input. I told them the entire story, top to bottom and they basically said that all the details don’t really matter. What matters is that at one and possibly a few other points in this tale, I behaved in a way that was inconsistent with my personal level of respect. That in the end, the only thing you have control over is what you do.
Ok, so what does this mean? It means rather than trying to shift the other person’s opinion of the situation or your part in it, in search of some sort of solace or reprieve from blame or anxiety, all you can do is ask yourself,
“In a given situation, when and how did I behave in a way that was inconsistent with my personal level of respect?”
From there, regardless of the circumstances or what the other person may or may not have done, it’s your responsibility to apologize for those things. It’s not your responsibility to ask that person to apologize for something they’ve done. It’s also not your responsibility to explain yourself to that person. And it’s sure as shit not your responsibility to tell that person what they should do differently in the future.
All you can do is live up to your own bar of expectation, regardless of the circumstances. And when you don’t, do what you need to do to reconcile that.
And in that moment, I felt an incredible amount of relief and frankly, control of myself. I’ve spent so much time in my head and in conversation with others, dissecting a situation and weighing the things I’ve done versus the things they’ve done. I’ve considered the unique circumstances of the situation in an effort to see which direction the scales of justice will tip. I might as well have been charting the position of the fucking moon. But I don’t do that. I swear. Because once again, I have little-to-no control over the circumstances of the situation and I definitely don’t have control over the position of the moon — the only thing I can control is my behavior in the moment or after-the-fact.
This realization was so relieving. I could stop mulling over the tipping of the scales. I could simply decide where I stand in my own moral high ground and rectify the things I’ve done or said. If the other person decides to do the same, great! If not, also fine! Depending on their response, I can also decide where I stand with that person. I can even decide to share where I stand with that person. Those things are all within my control. What isn’t, once again, is how they respond to what I say, and that’s a-ok.
Maybe this is obvious to you. When it finally hit me, I felt that “oh wow, duh” moment. The concept itself is quite clear. The part that takes quite a bit of work is deciding where exactly your bar is. Where do you stand on the very many things in life?
As an example, in the above scenario, I didn’t live up to my own standards because I didn’t communicate that I felt uncomfortable committing to this event. I should have done that within a day or two, when I realized it for myself. I didn’t do that and so all I should have done was apologize for that, rather than all of the other things I ended up saying in addition to that. The good news is, from now on, I will.
That’s really it. A simple lesson, learned very painfully over the span of my entire adult life. I can only hope that this resonates with all of the other people pleasers reading this. If not, well, I have no control over that.
And that my friends, was too much to text.
Amen to that! :)