The other day I said “yes” to something that I wanted to say “no” to.
I do that a lot- say “yes” simply because I can’t think of a valid reason to say “no”. I say “yes” a lot because it doesn’t occur to me to say “no”. I say “yes” a lot when I really should be saying “no”. It’s part of the issue with boundaries that I spoke about the other day. It’s a Pisces thing. It’s a Neptune thing. It’s a self respect thing. It’s an excuse. It’s as if I’m still looking for approval from others when the only person I really need approval from is myself.
So now I’m angry.
It’s taken a few days for the anger to fight through the faking it façade, but yesterday it came out in one big swear laden spew.
It started yesterday when we went to try and vote in the local council elections. I’d had a lovely day out with my camera. I’d walked about 8kms in the sun and felt good. Hubby came and picked me up off the bus. We then spent 30 frustrating minutes getting a carpark in the local shopping mall before walking across to the polling point located in the community centre.
Only to be told that because this was a local (as opposed to state or federal election) we couldn’t vote just anywhere in the Shire- instead we had to drive to the other end of the Shire to a different polling booth. I had a tanty. A pointless, juvenile, foot stamping, hair tossing tanty.
So, back in the car, another 20minutes to get out of the Mall, another 30mins in traffic. At which point I burst into tears. Not because of the pointless politics, but because the “yes” I said the other day is marking the end of 9 months of relative independence. And I’m angry about it.
You see, I said “yes please” to a redundancy last December and was in the fortunate position of both having my husband in a stable job and me being able to stretch the redundancy payment out for long enough for me to write a book. I’ve been calling it my gap year.
And I’ve never felt more authentic in my life.
The thing about independence, though, is that it costs money. And the thing about writing is that the money doesn’t pour in, or even trickle. It takes time. I know that…logically. And, as the redundancy buffer has reduced, so too is my feeling of independence. I’m starting to feel trapped in it. I’m starting to put weight back on again. So, rather than compromise the lifestyle of our little family, and my own health. I’m compromising my dream instead. It’s all about fantasy vs reality- I’m great at one, and not the other.
So I said “yes” and now I’m angry. And it isn’t a rational anger. No one is putting me under any pressure except me. My husband certainly isn’t- he likes who he comes home to these days. He likes that I’m not strung out on other peoples goals. He likes that I’m feeling more “me”, less someone else.
Just after I said “yes” I did two things: I went shopping for myself for the first time this year and I ate too much. I didn’t feel good about either of them.
Bingeing is my go to thing when I want to escape, when I feel trapped into a situation I don’t want to be in, or asked to conform to someone elses idea of who I should be and what I should be doing. Bingeing is what I do when reality feels tough.
I don’t do the packets of tim tams or McDonalds or ice cream thing. I graze- and I have 3 glasses of wine when I should have 1. It adds up quickly.
It’s the main reason I have continued to put on weight over these last couple of years when I felt like I was selling my soul for my corporate salary, and checking my personality and opinions at the carpark entrance – it dulls the pain of complying and fills the gaps where fulfilment should be. We all have a deal breaker…different trigger points and priorities that might seem trivial to someone else.
I’m now going through the “coulda, woulda, shoulda”s. If I’d focused on pitching more freelance articles rather than concentrating on finishing the manuscript I’d have an income stream. If I’d focused on writing those training courses instead of finishing my manuscript to teach astrology I’d have an income stream.
The fact is, I didn’t do these things. Nor am I sorry that I didn’t. Writing my book was my focus. Getting it published will be my focus. I now know that this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.
So, I’m facing reality. I said “yes” when I wanted to say “no.” I’m fortunate I have the option.
This time I’ve said “yes” on my terms, so despite me carrying on like a spoiled teenager, it’s the right thing for me to do at this time. I’ll continue to write because it’s who I am- and no one can touch or control that part of me. And trust me, I know just how lucky I am. I feel a little guilty over that too- guilt is also a Pisces thing.
The astrologer in me knows logically that I’m more productive when I have multiple things to focus on, so saying “yes” is actually being true to my chart and maximising my potential.
Part of me is worrying about whether others will think I’ve sold out by saying “yes”. I’m ashamed to admit that is a very large part of my resentment. And that is inauthentic in itself. Part of me is worried that I’ll “attach” again when saying “yes” should just be a means to an end. I have a habit of attaching and then resenting it.
So, I’m likening it to a workout- I’m back on the treadmill for the distance stuff, with my writing providing the interval work that energises me creatively. I can deal with that.