The Year I Did What I Wanted — Instead of What I Thought I Should

Is this it, I ask myself. Is this the year I get to decide what I want to do and do it? How old do I have to be to get to choose how I spend my holidays without feeling like I’m somehow wrong for making the choice?

I had assumed that when I was an adult, I wouldn’t be dragged along to events I definitely didn’t want to attend. I could do what I liked so that I could like what I do. It always seemed to me that adults were in charge of their destiny. But I am over 40 and finally realizing how many of us live like we are not, in fact, in control of anything. I’m 41 years old, and it fills me with guilt to decline a holiday invitation simply because I want to stay home.

At first, I felt a heavy weight of shame and self-judgment further exacerbated by the judgment aimed in my direction by others when I mentioned that I might like to do something different this year. Then, I got curious. Why was I overcome with anxiety at the thought of doing what I wanted for the holidays? Wasn’t it my holiday, too?

Our lives are our own — so why does the culture continue to promote the idea that sacrificing our time is commendable and refusing to do so is unaccountably selfish?

I explored this further and realized it’s a similar feeling to what arises in me when I feel like I have to explain myself when I’ve said no. I’m preemptively experiencing this anxiety because I feel like I can’t decline an invitation without offering a justifiable reason for doing so — and apparently, my pleasure isn’t sufficient. Part of this is a personal boundary issue, but it’s also a larger societal problem. Our lives are our own — so why does the culture continue to promote the idea that sacrificing our time is commendable and refusing to do so is unaccountably selfish?

Acknowledging the Discomfort

With all these thoughts swirling in my mind, I said no. Of course, being the ever-polite southern woman that I am, I went ahead and filled in the blanks of the questions I knew I’d be asked. No, I wasn’t mad at anyone. No, it’s not that I don’t love my family. Yes, I simply wanted to be home for the holiday. No, I didn’t want to devote half my day to travel with two children and a puppy not yet old enough to stay home alone that long.

It was uncomfortable, but I felt a sudden stubborn unwillingness to compromise on what I wanted this year. I had pictured it in my mind — a smaller feast, the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade playing on the television, a hike later in the day, and perhaps a nap. I could spend most of the day in my pajamas if I wanted. We could watch Christmas movies or curl up with a book. It wasn’t what everyone would want, but this year, it was what my soul craved. Why shouldn’t I have it?

I had to acknowledge the discomfort and allow it. I couldn’t undo a lifetime’s worth of societal conditioning in a day — or week or month. I simply had to accept that standing up for what I wanted when I did this so infrequently was going to feel strange. That doesn’t mean it’s wrong, only different. I’ve been breathing through that feeling and reminding myself that this is my holiday, my life, and my time. I get a say in it.

Doesn’t the saying go that what we want is on the other side of our fear? The same is true for the discomfort. If we can figure out how to stand it, we might find freedom and relief on the other side. And if we don’t — we can always make a different choice.

Building Better Boundaries

Part of building better boundaries will involve staying firm with my no. I know that my children might prefer the boisterous family holiday where they run wild with their cousins while I do little more than cook, clean, and try to calm an unsettled puppy. I know that my family would prefer that I be there only because they feel that it’s the right thing to do. But having stated my plans and — quite unnecessarily — my reasoning, I have to hold firmly to that decision.

Boundaries don’t have to be angry. In point of fact, it’s better if they are calmly stated. I would love to see my family at an alternate time or perhaps on the next holiday, but I want to spend this one at home. I want what I want to matter, too.

Better boundaries honor an inner knowing that we can choose what is right and best for us even if someone else doesn’t understand it.

Creating better boundaries takes consistency. It takes the willingness to keep stating what is and isn’t acceptable and then enforcing it. Boundaries aren’t a way to punish other people but to maintain healthy relationships with them. We shouldn’t feel guilted, shamed, pressured, or manipulated to do something that doesn’t feel right for us. Better boundaries honor an inner knowing that we can choose what is right and best for us even if someone else doesn’t understand it.

Empowering Ourselves to Choose

I think back on a lifetime of events, and I wonder how many of them I attended begrudgingly and didn’t appreciate as a result. How much of my holiday time was spent in dread, anxiety, and sadness that the simple things I wanted seemed outside my grasp? I kept thinking that one day I would be in the position to do exactly what I wanted to do. Only, that day never seemed to arrive.

It won’t — until we make it so. This year, I’m empowering myself to make a different choice. It’s one I can appreciate and that resonates with how I’m feeling. I’m not going to wait any longer for permission. Or, to be more accurate, I’m finally giving myself permission to take my power back in this life that is mine and mine alone.

It’s been a challenging year for many of us. Why shouldn’t we say that we’d like a quiet holiday or a trip away or some other something that helps us feel soothed? I want to feel blessed, grateful, and joyous about how I’m spending my time. I don’t want to feel like I have no control because I gave up all my power to family or peer pressure.

Through the discomfort, I’m beginning to feel empowered by my decision. I know how I want the day to look, and I’m doing everything in my power to make it happen. Maybe I’ll even do a video chat with the family I’ll miss or arrange another time to spend with them — a time when I don’t just have the one day to celebrate when I’d prefer to be home. I’m finally understanding that I get a vote in my own life, and no one gets to come along and veto it because it doesn’t fit their vision for what I should do.

I’m kissing the guilt goodbye. It's creating a space to feel relief and peace instead. It’s taken too many years to finally honor what I’m feeling whether or not it makes sense to anyone else in the world. I’m paying better attention to how I feel, and I’m no longer dismissing it because it doesn’t meld neatly into someone else’s plans for me.

There’s still a little discomfort happening beneath the surface, and I’m allowing that feeling room to breathe, too. This is part of the process. Over time, my body will grow more accustomed to doing what feels right to me even when I’m being told that I should feel or want something else. I’m practicing self-compassion for the part of me that still wants to bend to the wants and will of others, but it’s self-love that I lead with when I say a gentle no and do what’s best for me instead.

This is the year, I tell myself. And it’s not defined by age or some outside measure. It’s defined only by my deep and growing desire to be accountable for this life I’m living. This year, I will do what resonates with my soul. I will stand strong in my power and love others while honoring myself. This year will be different because I will be.

Originally published on Medium