Is it Balance or Just Me Setting Boundaries?
How saying no and making tough choices brings me peace.
I get asked a lot about how I find balance or how I do it all. And it always surprises me when someone asks me that. My short answer is: Boundaries. The long answer, I don’t actually do it all. I just can’t. And then I usually rant about how balance is the wrong word and it’s more about a juggling act sometimes. Somewhere along the way, we started to tell women they could have it all. They could have children, work full time jobs to contribute to their households and still do all the “things” while living amazing lives. What “they” left out was that you’d feel burned out, exhausted or maybe like you were failing on all fronts. I remember way back in 2013 Sheryl Sandberg’s book Lean In and the fervor around it and I just kept telling my friends I was leaning out. I didn’t want the management position that required me to be on call all the time, or chained to my phone. I wanted to live a life, work is simply the thing that helps me afford to live the life I want to live. I realized in my thirties that I was exhausted and I hadn’t even done all the things society was telling me I should be doing. Now, at the age of 45 and after having health issues over the last two years, I am firm in stating sometimes finding balance is about figuring out what you have to sacrifice in order to achieve happiness. And for me that starts by creating strong boundaries in my life about what I am willing and want to spend my time on.
In 2021 I was hospitalized for a massive pulmonary embolism. At the time I was a full time instructor at my university teaching four courses while also taking three graduate courses towards my doctorate. I was writing on my blog and writing a monthly column for Modern Daily Knitting while I was simultaneously prepping for my season of Knit Stars. Before I went into the hospital I had been complaining since January of how I was continuously exhausted and in pain and even had a conversation with my husband about how I couldn’t keep going the way I was going. And then suddenly my body forced me to stop. A massive pulmonary embolism came very close to killing me.
I spent five days in the hospital, four in the ICU, and almost all of it in silence. I’ve never been so exhausted in my entire life and all I wanted to do was sleep as the drugs helped ease the pain I had been carrying for months. What I realized in between naps and nurse check-ins, for the first time in a long time I felt at ease. In the ICU no one needed me. I wasn’t on a deadline, I wasn’t answering emails, I wasn’t vacuuming or doing laundry. I was just trying to survive. I was resting and letting my body heal but I was also reevaluating what my life had to look like moving forward. What I didn’t realize at the time was that hospital stay was going to change my life in almost every way possible moving forward.
One of the hard things about being critically ill, especially when you don’t look physically ill, is how quickly people want/expect/need you to get back to your old self.
I never looked sick, so it has always been difficult for people to understand I had new limitations. I immediately had to set hard boundaries around my time and what I could do because everything was exhausting. Walking to the mailbox was a triumph! So how could I be all things to everyone anymore? I couldn’t and I realized I had to put my health and wellbeing first or I couldn’t do anything for anyone! One of the hard things about being critically ill, especially when you don’t look physically ill, is how quickly people want/expect/need you to get back to your old self. The first question is always, “well, are you better now?” as if this massive trauma didn’t completely flip your whole life upside down. The reality is that I will never be the person I was before I went into the hospital in May of 2021, it just isn’t possible. But that doesn’t mean this version of me is bad, she’s just different. And this version definitely has some hard boundaries and had to tell people no to protect her own peace.
I listened to this podcast episode the other day where Tressie Cottom Interviews Pooja Lakshmin about her new book Real Self-Care: A Transformative Program for Redefining Wellness (Crystals, Cleanses, and Bubble Baths Not Included). And the thing that resonated with me the most was that self-care isn’t about the material things we buy to take a moment out of our day, it’s about the boundaries we set and the decisions we make in order to live a better life. In order for me to finish my PhD while working and still healing I had to say no to a lot of things and let go of some things I loved. I didn’t have the energy to do it all and I knew I couldn’t do anything successfully if I spread myself too thin. Now that I’m out of graduate school, I’m readjusting to my job in a new position and with different responsibilities. I’m also prioritizing things I want to do, like writing more, but only at a pace that works for me. I still say no to things but I’ve opened myself up to more opportunities to say yes to things I want to do too. I have moments where I want to do all the things but I look back and also remember how exhausting that is and that’s just not where I want to be. So if saying no is more self-care than a face mask, sign me up!
My battle right now is figuring out my new normal. What are the things I HAVE to do versus the things I WANT to do versus what I can actually accomplish. I also feel like on top of all of my own life changes, the pandemic definitely changed my priorities and how I work and live. Yet somehow, the world seems to want us to all just get back to normal without realizing how much everyone has changed too. I’m going to read Real Self Care, learn more about what I can do around creating a better life for myself and I’ll definitely let you know what else I’ve learned.
Wow, does this resonate with me. Last year at this time I was teaching at college, and while previously I had wanted to continue until age 70 I got a slap in the brain that said "You need to retire NOW." My heart agreed, and with no fanfare or party or announcement, I retired at 65. My days are now filled with thoughtful decisions, deliberate planning, and reflective pursuits like art, reading, and knitting (of course). No more running to get someone else's agenda finished without any regard to my own. And I am extremely fortunate to have this choice.
Thank you for always speaking from the heart.
I came back to re-read your brave and inspiring post - thank you so much for sharing your experiences and your thought process as you figured out how you wanted/needed to step forward again.
At age 70, i find i have experienced running into that wall of physical and/or emotional exhaustion several times for very different reasons. Luckily, the hard lessons I learned the first time the universe kicked me in the head helped me find my way through the next time just a little bit more easily.
The more I was willing to share my lived experience, the more I found that many of the folks I worked with, or who were close friends/family had been going through their own big challenges and trying valiantly to carry on as if nothing were happening - because they assumed that they were the only ones struggling.
Once that empathy chip really kicked in, our collaborative support became a strong form of self-care.
And at the core of it is we share that permission to say no, to hold boundaries.
Thank you for sharing your lived experience and inspiring others to do the same.