I choose me

#272

In my previous post (#271), I wrote about boundaries and learning to say no. Over the years, another aspect I learned is to firstly be by myself and secondly enjoy being by myself.

Alone but never alone

I was and am an only child. Despite not having siblings, I still almost always had someone around - like a parent or a relative. In college, it was always one friend or another, or a group. So being alone felt rather awkward. 

Solo activities were mostly for a purpose - a class I had to take, a task I had to do, a book I was reading. But the idea of doing something alone, in public, for myself wasn't on the menu. There used to be a particular kind of anxiety that came with me being alone in public. Even the thought of sitting by myself at a movie theater or enjoying a coffee all alone at a cafe gave me the heebie-jeebies. On later reflection, I realized not having someone with me made me feel like I was being watched and scrutinized. Others judging me for not having company. Like - "she's by herself, something must be wrong with her for others to be avoiding her or not wanting to accompany her."

Gradual transition

That shame of appearing uncoupled, friendless, weird made me make up excuses for years. I needed someone there as going alone wasn't legitimate. It was kinda sad. American TV has spent decades making jokes about the solo diner, the friendless activities. But there's something liberating and empowering about choosing to sit with yourself. I used to and still admire my partner for being able to be by himself wherever he goes, for most things. Yet another thing I learnt from him to slowly incorporate into my life. One day he urged me "Why don't you just go watch a movie by yourself?" And I did. And nothing happened. It actually felt fine. Everyone was minding their own business. I felt nervous at the beginning and relieved by the end.

Over time, I learnt to take walks at parks by myself from all the free time I had gained from saying no to energy-draining activities thanks to boundary-setting. I started to love this new me-time. I was still in crowds, still out there in the public, but thoughts and ideas accompanied me, making my journey hunky-dory.

Quiet agency

While learning about boundaries from online sources, I also learnt a new phrase which I now use proudly. Quiet agency in this context refers to the intentional, self-directed power to withdraw, set boundaries, and guide your own mental space. It transforms the act of solitude from an involuntary state of loneliness into a restorative, active practice of self-awareness and inner control.

And hey, you just might realize - you're actually good company! With yourself, by yourself, for yourself.

"No" boundaries

#271

I used to be a pathological people-pleaser. Still kinda am, ngl, but I've gotten better at becoming aware of it.

How'd I become an approval-seeking, conflict-avoiding, boundary-less, serial yes-er? A walking apology most times? In short, a doormat?

Well, I was that kid at parties sitting alone in a corner while everyone else was having real "fun". The introverted 1-on-1 talker avoiding groups with her nose in a book while everyone else was... doing whatever it is cool kids do. Didn't have many friends back then. So when college happened and suddenly people wanted to hang out? I said yes to everything. Whatever it took to not be left behind again. Be flexible, easy, ergo likeable.

It worked! I had friends. Kept them too. But also... the cost was invisible. I'd said yes to stuff I hated and bent myself into shapes that didn't fit. I'd cancel my own plans last minute if someone needed me, sit through movies I hated, pretend to enjoy parties, laugh at jokes that weren't funny - just to keep people around. I'd also drop my own schedule to accommodate other people's availability, even when it meant exhausting myself.

Work made it so much worse. Toxic environments are designed to make you afraid of saying no. Say no to a random task and suddenly you're "not aligned with leadership." Say no to a meeting and you're "not a team player." The pressure isn't even about the work - it's psychological. And it works because you're already wired to people-please.

Thanks to my partner, I learned this crazy concept called "Boundaries". It amazed me to see how he was able to maintain his inner circle relationships that looked and felt and truly were way different than with those on the "outside". Implementation for me took several years but because I was a willing learner, I kept at it despite the gnawing uncomfortable feeling in my stomach every time I said "Umm...no...but thanks". Felt super weird the first time, felt a tad less weird the second time, and so on. I wish I could say I am proud to be a comfortable sayer of "no"s today, but at least it's a constant work in progress.

What happened when I started saying no? Surprise, surprise - people didn't hate me or avoid me. In fact, quite the contrary. My girl friends admired me for being a boundary-setter and started asking me how I do it. They wanted to learn from me because they thought it was almost impossible, let alone difficult.

Saying no to harder hikes so I can stay home and cook myself a nice meal? Not missing out. Saying no to extra social stuff to vibe with tea and a book? Not missing out. Happily indulging in JOMO - Joy of Missing Out. The term gained popularity as an intentional, positive alternative to anxiety-driven FOMO around 2016-2018 when people started talking about digital wellness and social media fatigue. Turns out, the thing I thought I was "missing" was just stress and exhaustion. The thing I was gaining? Peace.

The actual tea on how to do it:

One: Stop explaining yourself.
This was hard. People-pleasers love to justify, soften the blow with reasons. "I can't make the hike because I'm tired and my knees hurt and I have laundry..." Nope. "I can't make it. Thanks for asking!" Done. Research shows that reasons just invite negotiation - people try to solve your way into a yes. No reason = no argument.

Two: Check if you're saying no from fear or from actual boundaries.
Fear-based no feels heavy and guilty. Boundary-based no feels clean.

Three: Start small.
Say no to easy stuff first - dinner invites you want to avoid, extra tasks that don't add value.
Build the muscle so when bigger things come, you're not panicking. You've already flexed the "no" muscle.

One of my favorite dialogs is from the Bollywood movie Pink. Amitabh Bachchan says: "No is a complete sentence."
You don't owe anyone an explanation. You don't need a reason. Sometimes there just isn't one. And that's valid.

Brené Brown says boundaries are "the clearest path to compassion." When you know your limits, you actually show up for people who matter. You're not resentful or running on empty, rather, you're present.

Taylor Swift sings: "I wouldn't marry me either, a pathological people pleaser, who only wanted you to see her."

We don't have to be that person anymore.

Ladies First (Everything Else Second)

#270

So thanks to CrossFit, I got myself a gals gang. Didn't plan for it, just serendipitously happened. One workout buddy turned into four of us, sometimes twelve when literally everyone can make it, which is rare but a different, welcome vibe.

We hike. We throw birthday parties where the birthday girl shows up with a tiara she's already wearing and we're drinking wine debating whether Vegas is actually going to happen this year (it might, it might not, we'll probably book it at the last minute like we do everything). We lose our minds at the gym over each other's lifts. Like, genuinely lose it. "OMG your squat looks fly." "Did you just PR that deadlift??"  "Girl, look at those triceps working!!" The kind of loud, unselfconscious cheering that makes our actual partners a tiny bit jealous sometimes. They're happy for us, sure, but there's definitely that little glint of FOMO. Which is kind of hilarious because what are they jealous of? We're just yelling about weights and planning hikes.

Every other month, whoever can make it shows up. No guilt trips if you can't make it. No "where have you been?" No elaborate planning required. Just: you free? Cool, let's go. Sometimes it's three of us on a trail talking about life and philosophy. Sometimes it's ten of us at a restaurant somehow all talking at once about our most and least favorite concerts and other random things that are fun to vote on.

Here's the thing about girl gangs after college: most of them die or gradually turn into WhatsApp chats with muted notifications, where a couple of folks post for a while and then that fizzles out too. People move, get married, have kids, get busy, drift into their own lives. It's normal. It's expected. But with us, CrossFit brought us together and kept us going strong. 

Self-care is simply saying yes to the plans that get made spontaneously. Even on a low or meh day, putting on a dress and stepping out of the house to meet them is the hard part. The rest is taken care of.