In contemplating the newsletter tonight I remembered my earlier days of writing it (~5 years ago) where I would stay up soooooo late every Wednesday night practically banging my head against the computer until something "smart" came out. I would delete and start over several times, and sleep with one eye open only to wake up and work on it some more. I was exhausted, and I wonder what would have happened if I'd released that pressure? If I'd chosen to sleep instead of wearing myself so thin? If I'd realized the consequences weren't all that dire or if I let the words flow out of me more easily instead of worrying about getting it all *just* right until 3am?
What if I’d put myself first instead of assuming this is what it takes to have an online business?
A similar theme came up on a client call tonight: putting expectations on ourselves that nobody else would, and sacrificing ourselves when nobody’s asking us to. We put our own needs aside when it's not really necessary, and just assume it's what we need to do. We think I can take it, this person/thing needs me more than I need myself, and put so much of our self worth in how much we can ring ourselves out for the sake of other people. But who is that helping? We confuse self-sacrifice as a display of love - a way to show we really care - when in fact, in doing so we place an unwanted burden on the very person we're claiming to help. I know this might sound confusing to some, so let me explain what I mean...
"Don't be high maintenance by trying to be low maintenance."
A boss said this to me once and it really stuck with me; in an effort to be less "needy," I was ignoring all of my own needs and leaving it up to him to guess what it was I needed. Because somebody had to address my needs, and it wasn't gonna be me. By saying "I'm fine don't worry about me," while visibly uncomfortable or worn out, I was leaving the burden on my boss to make sure I was okay when I could have just asked for what I needed and saved him the trouble. He would have been happy to accommodate me, but I thought I was being "strong" or a "team player" by being fine.
I think we do this a lot, and call it love. Or call it support. Or call it... being low maintenance (because god forbid we inch towards “high maintenance”).
One of the most beautiful examples of how *not* to do this showed up in my all-star retreat team: myself, Alex, and Amanda. We each had distinct roles, all equally integral to the retreat, all equally taxing in their own ways. But, we would jump in to help each other out, too, because we were a team and we genuinely wanted to support each other and execute a killer retreat. Early on we made a deal:
If I need help, I'll ask for it. If I'm not available (physically, mentally, or emotionally) to give help when asked, I'll say so. If I offer my help, you can assume I have the time and energy to give it.
What this did was create a level of trust between us; I could trust that I wasn't burdening Amanda by asking her to set the table, because if she needed to take a break she would tell me. Alex could trust that if I was in the kitchen and asking for a job to do, I had the time and space to help her. We didn't have to worry about each other's energy or overwhelm because we had this deal that we'd be honest with each other - and ourselves - about our needs. And damn, it worked.
Quick note that I'm only talking about this in the past tense because it's been a year since a retreat, and Amanda won't be joining us for the foreseeable future. Alex and I are still rockin' it this spring, summer, and fall, and we hope that Amanda will be back to join us again soon ;)
Anyhoo, let's think about how this applies in our more everyday relationships. Perhaps you're going through something and you call your bestie everyday. And she always answers. Always. At the end of each call you apologize for calling - again - and she says it's fine, but really she has work to do and she's feeling overwhelmed but can't say that because she doesn't want to make you feel bad. As a result, you both feel bad: you feel like a burden, and she is tapped out and feels guilty for not having more to give.
What if - instead - you could trust that she'd only answer when she truly had time and energy to speak to you? What if you knew she was taking care of herself first, and was genuinely present and available to hold that space for you when she answered? You could stop apologizing, you could stop feeling like a burden, you could stop having to guess if she's *really* available, or worse - having to make those decisions for her by cutting yourself off and telling her to get back to her work.
We inherently tie our self worth to what we can offer people. We think we're not a good enough friend if we're not available 24/7 and if we don't always have the answers (that's a whole other post). But what if your worth is not in you raking yourself over the coals for the sake of another person? What if that person doesn't want that, and in fact feels pretty terrible that you're choosing to do that for them? What if you answering the phone and acting “available” only for them to realize you’re actually in the middle of something just makes them uncomfortable?
It's 10:38pm, and I've got a very important episode of This Is Us to watch. Gone are the days of staying up til 3am, but that doesn’t mean I care about you or this newsletter any less. I hope this gives you something to think about - and perhaps adjust - this week. Do you have a relationship that needs re-negotiating? Are you throwing yourself in the fire thinking you’re doing someone a favor? How bout, don’t, and see what happens…
Sending love~
More soon :)
xo,
m.
