There’s an undercurrent of fear that stirs whenever we allow ourselves to follow our inner compass:
“If everyone just does what they want—we might as well call it quits!”
It’s the fear that everything falls apart the moment everyone takes the path of least resistance.
“Then there’ll be no one left to take on what’s difficult, boring, or uncomfortable!”
That’s the unspoken worry.
But perhaps we’re making a fundamental thinking error here. Perhaps following your inner compass has nothing to do with instant gratification or selfishness.
I’m sitting with my husband and one of our daughters over coffee when he says, thoughtfully:
“Our friends are pulling back from us a little.”
She nods.
“Yes, we haven’t had them over in a long time.”
After a brief pause, I reply:
“They’re not pulling back from us. We’re pulling back from them. I haven’t extended an invitation in a very long time.”
About a year and a half ago, I began drastically reducing the number of invitations I extended. Not because I don’t enjoy company. Not because our friends had suddenly become less interesting. Not because I’d lost my taste for good conversation.
But because I’d started listening to myself—and something inside me knew that the years before had been too loud, too full, too much. And even though I missed having guests around our table, even though I missed being a guest at theirs, it was the truest step I could take.
I look down at my half-empty cup of coffee and add:
“I can no longer carry the responsibility for our gatherings alone.”
“We could take over the cleaning!” my daughter suggests, already looping in her siblings.
My husband adds:
“And I’ll handle the cooking. But maybe you could keep doing the organizing,”
he adds, charmingly and true to form, in my direction,
“You’re simply the best at it.”
Many systems function only because certain people permanently take on roles they inwardly resist.
When those people stop—it initially looks like loss.
I thought that if I aligned with my inner truth, something important would inevitably be lost. But our social life didn’t dissolve. It simply took a breather.
The world doesn’t fall apart when people stop living against themselves. On the contrary:
What falls apart is often only what was being held together artificially in the first place.
What has changed since you started being more honest about your limits?
This is a thought provoking piece. It’s true sometimes I strive for the sake of being seen, of being validated, of being good enough.
This past year I’ve stepped away from the hustle culture and awards led scene. I enjoyed being in it for a short season and I received the recognition I had sought for a long time. I now know I’m accepted & good enough (& love / accept myself more importantly).