by Amy Newmark
“I’ll sleep next year!” became my mantra.
One day, yet another call came from one of the nonprofits where I was involved. “Hey, I need to add somebody to our event planning committee. Wondering if you’d do it.”
This time I hesitated. How could I take on another responsibility?
Sometimes it’s okay to say no and step aside, so that someone else gets the chance to step up.
“You know, I have so much on my plate right now, I’d rather you find someone else for the committee, if you can,” I explained. “But call me back if you have trouble.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I’m sure I can get someone else. You’re the first person I’ve called. I just started at the top of the list.”
It was as if a bucket of water had just hit me in the face. How could this not have occurred to me before? My last name starts with A! Everyone always called me because I was first on the list.
And I always said yes. By trying so hard to do my part, had I inadvertently prevented people further down the lists from being offered the opportunity to do theirs? Should I stop trying to be more efficient, and simply… stop?
From that point on, it became much easier to decline when I felt I was already doing my share. I even realized that there was no need to be Super Mom. My kids would do just fine with Serene Mom.
Sure, my greatest joy is still in doing things with and for my children. But happiness also comes from seeing what they accomplish when they take on some chores and responsibilities for themselves. I also still love to volunteer. I do what I can to help others. However, I no longer exhaust myself by overdoing it. Now I can commit my efforts more fully and energetically where I do participate. And I can enthusiastically appreciate the successes of others.
I gained a new perspective on my place in the scheme of things. Sometimes it’s okay to say no and step aside, so that someone else gets the chance to step up.
~D.S.A.
Silencing the “Should” Monster
Half of the troubles of this life can be traced to saying yes too quickly and not saying no soon enough.
~Josh Billings
Women have it tough. Maybe it’s biological. Perhaps it’s just plain insanity. But women, in general, have this deep desire to be everything to everyone all the time. We want to be the fantastic wife, amazing mother, loving daughter, caring sister, dependable employee, and supportive friend. The list is endless and exhausting. Every single day, I am surrounded by amazingly smart, strong, and independent women who are “shoulding” themselves to death.
Let me explain.
We think we should be Superwoman. We should keep a sparkling clean house and cook dinner for our families every night. We should plan themed birthday parties for our kids with twenty of their closest friends. We should be community volunteers throughout the week and bring homemade dishes to church functions on Sunday. We should pick out the perfect baby/birthday/graduation/wedding gift and then attend all those events with smiles on our faces. And we should do it all without asking for help from anyone.
Is that realistic? Absolutely not.
But more importantly, it’s unhealthy.
Unrealistic expectations on our energy, time, and emotions can lead to anxiety, depression, guilt, and low self-esteem. Frazzled isn’t just a state of mind. It’s a reality. And it’s a reality that leaves us feeling physically exhausted, mentally drained, and emotionally unfulfilled.
As wives, mothers, daughters, and employees, we fight the “should” monster every day. Of course, there will always be things that must be done. But what about the things we don’t have to do? I don’t always have to do the grocery shopping. My husband can help with that. I don’t always have to go to the funeral of an acquaintance. I can send a card or flowers instead. I don’t have to pick out the perfect birthday gift for a niece or nephew because kids love gift cards too. I don’t have to bake a homemade dish for a church dinner when something from the grocery’s deli will be just as appreciated.
Now, I do my best to silence the “should” monster by doing the things I want to do and politely declining the rest.
We have to learn to give ourselves a break.
And, if we don’t want to do something? It’s absolutely okay to say no.
Let me repeat that. It’s absolutely okay to say no. In fact, it’s a necessity, because the truth is we can’t do it all. We can’t. Not if we want to keep our sanity.
I went through a period a few years ago where I was dealing with anxiety issues, and a lot of it was caused by the fact that I was spreading myself too thin. I was always the dependable one. The reliable one. The first to volunteer for anything.
Why? Because I “should.”
While dealing with my anxiety, I spent some time with a therapist who asked me a question that still resonates with me to this day. During one of our sessions, I mentioned that I was dreading a particular event. She wondered why I was going if I felt this way.
My answer? “Because I should.”
My therapist looked at me and very simply asked, “Why should you do something you don’t want to do?”
I explained that while I didn’t want to go, I felt that it was expected of me. She said, “That’s why you’re dealing with anxiety. You’re trying to make everyone else happy. What about you? Are you happy? You can’t be, because you’re trying to juggle all the things you have to do with the things you feel like you should do. You have to start being a little selfish with your time. You have to learn to say no.”
I honestly couldn’t imagine such a thing. But I gave it a shot. I started saying no when it was possible, and you know what? The world didn’t spin off its axis.
Now, I do my best to silence the “should” monster by doing the things I want to do and politely declining the rest. I delegate as much as I can (my husband honestly loves grocery shopping). I volunteer for things because I want to and not because I feel obligated.
It’s not always easy, and I still struggle with feeling selfish from time to time, but I’m a happier, calmer person.
And that’s the way it should be.
~Sydney Logan
The Challenge
When in doubt, choose change.
~Lily Leung
In January 2014, my sister, Carole, announced she was challenging herself to stop buying any new clothes, handbags, shoes, or jewelry for a whole year. “The rules are you can’t buy anything from a shop, even if it’s hugely reduced,” she explained. “You can buy anything — even new — from charity shops, go to secondhand shops, boot fairs; you can make things, you can be given things, you can swap things. The only things you’re allowed to buy new are underwear and tights.” She looked at me. “Of course, you wouldn’t be able to stick to that, Den.”
She knows I enjoy a shopping spree once in a while. Not every week, or even every month, but my friend Gill and I love a shopping day in Tunbridge Wells, particularly when it’s the new season, and between us we normally come home with a few bags.
“I’m going to do it, too. In fact,” I said recklessly, “I’m adding no make-up to the rules.”
Carole shook her head. “We’ll see how long you can keep it up. I’ll give you a month.”
I told Gill what I intended to do and she laughed. She was sure I’d succumb long before the year was up. In fact, I don’t remember anyone saying “Good for you” or giving me the slightest encouragement.
I have to admit at first it wasn’t easy. Once, I almost forgot. I was wandering around the cosmetic counters in Hoopers department store. Many of the cosmeticians knew me and were eager to demonstrate their latest lines and colours. A gorgeous scarlet lipstick caught my eye, but I remembered in time and told them about The Challenge. Although intrigued, they were obviously sorry they hadn’t made a sale.
“We’ll probably see you before long,” they chirped as I smiled and nipped out of the doors and on to the safety of the High Street.
Except, of course, the High Street was the least safe p
lace to be when one is committed to The Challenge. The clothes in some of the shop windows were mouthwatering. They were presenting their spring collections and I could just picture myself in some of the outfits.
You’re getting older, I told myself. You won’t be able to wear this sort of thing in a few years. Enjoy them now. But I steeled myself and hurried by.
The strange thing was, I kept receiving items of clothing from women who didn’t even know I was participating in The Challenge. A friend of my sister’s gave me a gorgeous slinky black silk evening dress by Laura Ashley which she couldn’t get into; another friend sent me some lovely sweaters and blouses she could no longer wear. Items seemed to come to me. I must say, if you do The Challenge you need to cultivate friends and family who are prone to putting on a bit of pudding!
I knitted an evening jacket, which my sister sewed together. It has become my favourite item of eveningwear. I call it “the cobweb,” as it’s incredibly delicate, yet warm and cosy, and I feel very proud when people compliment me on it.
One day I glanced in the window of our local hospice shop. A pair of black high-heeled court shoes were pointing toward me with my name on them. I just knew they would fit perfectly.
“How much are they?” I asked. I could see they were brand new.
“Ten pounds. They’d be eighty in the shops.”
I gladly handed over a ten-pound note and can confirm I’ve worn them loads, and even though the heel is fairly high they are extremely comfortable.
Gill was curious as to how I was managing.
“Actually, it’s not that bad once the shock wears off,” I told her. “And I realise how much time I spent window shopping, looking through rails and never seeing what I wanted, trying on things in the fitting room, taking things back… there’s more time to do other interesting things.”
My friend looked doubtful. So you can imagine my surprise when a few weeks later she said, “I’m going to take up The Challenge.”
I hadn’t tried to persuade her to do this. I thought that as a dedicated fashionista she’d be the last person to give up shopping.
“I know some people think I’m all lipstick and handbags,” she smiled, “but I’m determined to do it.”
I reacted the same way as my sister. No chance, I thought. But I didn’t say it. I just said that her husband Peter would be pleased.
Now, when we go to London, Gill and I are much more likely to wander round museums and art galleries instead of shopping.
“He won’t notice.”
“He will when he looks at his bank statement,” I said with a grin.
Gill really did astonish me. She kept it up for more than a year, and has only recently bought a couple of new things. But nothing like she would have done.
“I realise I don’t find clothes shopping as much fun as I used to,” she said.
“We’ve all got too much. That’s why Carole decided to do it in the first place.”
“I took this skirt out of the back of the wardrobe,” she pointed to her pretty leaf-printed skirt, “and I bought the jacket (it was black and lacy) for a summer funeral years ago and had not worn it since. They seemed to go well together and it was like introducing two old friends.”
I fervently agreed. In the last year we’ve both donated to charity shops the clothes that we no longer wear that still have plenty of life in them. And I managed to get Gill into a charity shop for the first time ever when I spotted a fabulous black sequined flapper dress in the window. She tried it on at the back of the shop, stepped out looking terrific, and wore it at a New Year’s party. Everyone adored her “new” £12 dress.
Now, when we go to London, Gill and I are much more likely to wander round museums and art galleries instead of shopping, and it’s been no hardship at all. We used to do the culture stuff as well, but a London trip didn’t seem complete if we didn’t come back with a few bits.
On saying that, I belong to the University Women’s Club in Mayfair. In September they’re having an evening fashion show put on by the Harvey Nichols department store. Gill and I have already got our front row seats booked.
Well, you can’t be good all the time, can you?
~Denise Barnes
Practice Makes Perfect
It’s your place in the world; it’s your life. Go on and do all you can with it, and make it the life you want to live.
~Mae Jemison
“Time to practice piano!” I shouted up the stairs. I must have hollered that sentence a thousand times. My son started playing piano in kindergarten. I realize that it’s a bit early, but he comes from a musical family and piano lessons are a tradition. Besides, he’s very musical.
I’d beam with pride during his piano recitals as his little fingers sailed across the keyboard playing tunes by Mozart and Schumann. “That’s our son,” I’d whisper to my husband, as he’d dismiss me with a “Shush, be quiet.”
Although I’d revel in my son’s musical accomplishments, the fact was that he would rather have been spending his time playing baseball or making videos with his friends. Every week, as the piano instructor arrived at our door, I’d coax (or bribe) my son to go downstairs for his lesson. “Don’t keep John waiting. The sooner you start, the earlier you’ll finish. I’ll buy you a Starbucks oatmeal cookie; just go down there.” He’d reluctantly leave his room (and his action figures) and start his lesson.
James loved his action figures. He used to create stop-motion videos of his action figures battling each other and upload them onto YouTube. He was passionate about film and animation.
Like my husband, my son is not a complainer. He took his piano lessons religiously every week and — although I had to constantly urge him to practice — he never complained.
As he got older, however, school became more intensive and homework required more time. It was hard to juggle it all. I remember thinking that my friend who had a daughter in middle school was pushing her unnecessarily with too many activities, like tap, ballet, and hip hop, but I wasn’t looking at my own situation, which was very similar.
James’s short films became more and more interesting as he matured and his passion for filmmaking never seemed to tire. It was obvious that he found joy in filmmaking, not in piano, and I realized one day that in order to be really good at something, you have to let other things go.
Between schoolwork and sports… it’s just too much. No one can do everything!
And so, as much as it surprised me to utter these words, I did: “I think James should give up piano.”
My husband (a musician) looked confused. James was the soloist in the jazz band at school and had played well year after year. He had perfect pitch to boot. “Why would you suggest that?” he replied.
“Because it doesn’t make him happy. Making videos makes him happy and he can’t do everything! He has too many activities. Between schoolwork and sports… it’s just too much. No one can do everything!”
And so, after some thought, my husband asked the key question, “Does he ever sit down and play piano just for fun?”
“Never,” I answered.
That settled it.
His recital was a couple of weeks away and we didn’t say anything to James until it was over. On the way home in the car, we asked nonchalantly if he’d like to discontinue piano lessons.
There was silence for a few minutes. Then he answered. “Let’s not schedule any lessons for the summer. I’ll decide in September.” His answer was so mature it knocked my socks off.
By the end of the summer, after many sunny days of tennis (which had replaced baseball) and filmmaking, he brought up the subject of piano.
“I’d rather not take any more piano lessons, if that’s okay.”
It was more than okay! It would free up time during the school year to do what he really loved.
Music is what I (and my husband) had wanted for him, but it’s not what he wanted. I wasn’t listening to the real music… the music of my son’s heart!
I
have never had to yell the word “practice” again. He naturally follows his passion. James is blooming as a young film editor and making friends along the way.
Last year, his short film came in second place in a tri-state film festival and today he is shooting a music video for an aspiring singer with passions of her own. The song is called “Believe” and is being co-directed by American Idol contestant Robbie Rosen.
The song lyrics remind the listener to stay positive, not give up, and believe.
I believe that God has his own plans for my son.
And I believe that He gave my son the passions of his heart in order for him to become the person “He” wants him to be. Not the person “I” want him to be. He’s well on his way and I love watching him as he practices being himself every single day.
~Mary C. M. Phillips
Too Much of a Good Thing
Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony.
~Thomas Merton
Dancers occupy the lowest rung on the ladder of the art world. Patrons will occasionally pay visual artists and musicians for their work, singers and actors can rake in the big bucks, but dancers? Forget it. There are very few financially viable career opportunities for those of us who choose to dance.
So when I received my first job offer, fresh out of grad school, I was overjoyed: a full-time position as Arts Education Director at the Children’s Studio School in Washington, D.C. Never mind that my commute was going to be an hour in each direction. I had a job!
Then, before I even started work, I was offered another position: part-time instructor of modern dance at the University of Maryland. I had to commit to spending my Saturdays on campus, but my office hours were flexible. This would not conflict with my full-time position at the Studio School. As long as I put in the required forty hours per week in D.C., I was golden. Now I had two jobs!
You may not believe it, but my good luck did not end there. I soon received a phone call asking if I was interested in another part-time faculty position: Goucher College needed a Dance Education Specialist to teach a course that fall. I was the perfect candidate, having just completed a master’s degree in this exact subject. How could I say no? That’s right, I ended up with three jobs!