I have spent most of my life as a people pleaser. From being a “new kid” in school, and a strange one at that, to wanting to be indispensable at jobs, I was always worried about being accepted and liked, and it was devastating to me to let people down. I said “yes” to nearly everything people asked of me, even if it meant saying “no” to my own needs.
Most people would have understood had I turned down a request because I didn’t have the time or mental bandwidth, but I struggled so much with fear of rejection, I just kept piling things on. Often, I would do this to an inevitable crescendo and wildly chaotic burn-out, which is normal, and even expected, when one sets themselves on fire to keep others warm.
My husband was the one who freed me from this prison of my own making. He supported me when I stepped down from my position as Chamber of Commerce Director. He helped me start my own business. He handled all our household work and commitments so I could focus on building a burnout-proof career in helping people access joy and healing through art. I had found something I could do all day everyday without burnout (except when math is involved) and because he lifted me up and carried the burden of all that wasn’t art, I was able to exit the cycle of saying “yes” to things that felt like “no” in my gut.
Since he’s passed away, I’ve struggled mightily with the battle between saying “yes” to safer terrain, which meant saying “no” to my dreams, my calling, and the life Troy worked so hard to help me have. I’ve had many opportunities to retreat back into a safer life, doing work at which I used to excel. I’ve nearly said “yes” to things that would insure ease when paying the bills. I’ve vacillated so much; to the annoyance of many.
It’s hard to choose to leap further into the unknown, even on a good day. The unknown is where the magic and adventure are, but it’s also the realm of few guarantees. And further, I am wrestling with these choices during a time when I have trouble with even easy decisions. I am still in a stage of grief in which choosing what to eat for dinner sometimes paralyzes my brain and sends me back into the deep end of the earlier stages of grief. So, big decisions about my soul’s calling versus stability? Not easy.
But, here’s what I know: when the life you had dissolves and suddenly nothing makes sense, once you come up for a breath you have moments of realization that you are free. The worst has happened. There is nothing left to fear—not really, anyway.
And another thing? I know the same is true for all of us, tragedy or no. We all have the ability to start peeling back to layers of what isn’t actually us, even if they aren’t torn away by grief.
It sounds easier than it is, I know. But, in order to say “yes” to a life that feels right to you, you must be willing to take a deep breath, take time to listen to your gut, your soul, the real you, and say “no” to anything that isn’t that. Even if it does not please anyone but you.
Sara Middleton is a freelance columnist and resident artist/owner of Studio Sol Gallery & Creative Space in Eagle Grove, Iowa. Email her at sara.studiosol@gmail.com or find Studio Sol on Facebook or Instagram.
