When You Have to Stop Showing Up for Other People so You Can Show Up for Yourself

I am emotionally invested in everything I do. Sometimes I have kneejerk “whatever” reactions, but mostly I think that’s the worst word in the English language. I have a flobbity jillion flaws. More than one person is really allowed. I already found a sucker to marry me too, so now I just have to hope he doesn’t wise up before I die.

And if there are “plus sides” to my personality, I’m not very aware of them, typically. But there is one thing I know I work hard to do well … and that’s to show up. I show up with bells on to everything. If I’m there, I’m fuckin’ doin’ it.

So if you ask me to help you with a “quick and easy project,” just know that I’m going to take it too far. I’m gonna get too involved. I’m gonna do more than what’s required.

I do this because the one way you can break my spirit is by not showing up. If we’re talking face-to-face and you’re looking around or on your phone or easily distracted on a regular basis, we will not be friends long. If we’re on the phone and I can hear you “yeahing” me away while you’re multitasking, I remember that.

I hope that by showing up and being 100 percent present in my life that I don’t inflict those feelings I hate on someone else.

But showing up has a major drawback.

I tend to feel more “part of” things than I am. I think I make a bigger difference than I probably do. And all of that investing all I do in other people’s projects (I’m down with OPP) leaves me with nothing of mine when it’s all said and done.

I’m always reminded that it’s theirs in the end.

We bought a house. I told you that already.

And I’m not all domesticated and shit. But I am sinking my teeth into this house … fixing drains, staining furniture, buying curtains, power washing all the things … because it’s mine.

I’ve already got serious sweat equity in this place and I’m, like, printing coupons. I’m being totally serious. I’ve spent more collective hours in Bed, Bath and Beyond in one week than the rest of my life combined.

But every drawer I put contact paper in and every leaf I rake is just for me. It’s so silly and petty, but it’s not a woman-specific thing, don’t start … Isaiah is feeling the same way.

It’s a sense of pride in the ownership of something and it’s largely unfamiliar to us.

I will always support my friends and family and coworkers and whoever is in my life with their dreams and projects. I love collaboration and I love what I do.

But I know now that no one can spend their life playing a wholly supportive role to other people’s dreams. And eventually it means saying “no” to showing up for someone else so you can show up for yourself, right?

You can’t carry the same burden of responsibility for other people’s dreams that they have. Who’s carrying yours then?

So I’m ready to stop apologizing for needing to take time for myself … for my own projects and “things.”

When it really comes down to it … absorbing myself in other people’s work is more about timidity and fear than anything else. There’s no room for fear when your only setting is “Fuck Yeah.”