Thank You, But No

I was raised to be polite and show up anywhere I was invited. And then, even if I had a terrible time, even if they were obnoxious or insulting, I was supposed to reciprocate. I heard that word “reciprocate” so many times, it started to grate on my nerves. Being with someone I didn’t like wouldn’t make either of us feel good.

One of the gifts of aging is giving yourself permission to not do the things you don’t want to do. To not have to reciprocate. And to absolutely do the things that you do want to do. It would be a good idea to start doing this when we’re young, but we don’t think about it. When we have more years behind us than ahead of us, the idea of an expiration date, of a clock ticking away, makes it feel more immediate. It makes us stop and take a really good look at how we’re spending our time.

It takes courage to put yourself first. We were raised to think that was selfish, that how we treated other people was more important than how we treated ourselves. Sometimes it feels unfamiliar to be true to myself, but I’m learning to say, “Thank you, but no.” I’m motivated to utilize my precious time in ways that make me comfortable, peaceful, happy or excited and to take control of where I spend my time and with whom. I decided to only show up if it feels as good or better than being alone.

These days I decline an invitation if I don’t feel like accepting it for any reason. Many of us have come to the same conclusion and are practicing the same things I am, but women in my mother’s generation were heavily programmed to put on the blinders and do what was expected of them.

She lived on the East Coast, I live on the West Coast, and we used to have a standing appointment to talk on the phone on Sunday mornings at 11. She was an English teacher, I was a writer, so discussing bestselling books from the LA Times and the NY Times was a natural place for us to meet. I would call her, but often, her line was busy at our designated time. An annoying friend of hers, Lynn, was talking my mother’s ear off and as much as she’d prefer talking to me, my mother refused to hang up. She couldn’t say, “I need to speak with my daughter now.” It would be rude, she said, so I’d have to keep calling her over and over until she said good-bye to Lynn. It was irritating and I asked her to please get off the phone when I was supposed to call. She said, “Okay,” but she never did.

This kind of programming shows up in different areas of our lives. During the height of Covid when we were isolated in our homes, a friend asked me how I felt being isolated. Her question didn’t surprise me but my answer did. I said, “I’m so glad I don't have to hug anyone I don't want to hug.” This realization helped me recognize other things I was doing that I didn’t want to do.

Calling people back when I didn’t want to speak to them. Staying at a gathering when I wanted to go home.

It can be a drag when we have to tolerate people. The drunk uncle, the snooty cousin or the eccentric neighbor who corners you with the same old stories. So the question arises: If I don’t want to go somewhere, do I lie about having to be somewhere else? Do I tell them that I don’t feel well? How can I say, “I don’t like being with you,” without offending them? An acquaintance of mine told someone she had Covid when they invited her to dinner. Something about that doesn’t seem right to me, but if she didn’t lie, how would she avoid causing pain?

If you decide to put yourself first, you need to get creative. I usually say, this week isn’t a good one for me. Maybe later. Or, I’m busy with work and I need to wait until it lets up. I once met a friend for dinner in a restaurant in Beverly Hills. She had a good heart, but she talked non-stop. I was eating my salad when suddenly I heard her asking me a question. I had no idea what she was talking about because I had spaced out. When I was on my way to my car, I realized that if I had to disappear in order to be with her, I shouldn’t be with her.

There are things we have to do like going to the dentist or having a mammogram or working out to keep our bodies strong and supple. That seems logical. But beyond those kinds of things, it’s a good idea to keep the word, “should” out of our vocabulary. Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron, says:

“No one else can sort out what to accept about yourself and what to reject, what opens up your world and what keeps you going round and round in repetitive misery. The key to feeling more whole, more connected and less shut off is to be able to see clearly who we are, what we’re doing and what we want to do.”

Doing what we want will open the door to the things that heal us. Doing what we don't want will close that door and cause us suffering. If we pay attention to the voice inside that says, “I want to” or “I don't want to,” we’re giving ourselves the gift of remaining connected to ourselves with an open heart and a peaceful mind. You take care of you and let other people take care of themselves. Then everybody wins.