You Do Your Thing, I’ll Do Mine

Do you think it’s your job to fix everyone? Or just one or two people? Do you think that other people’s happiness is dependent upon you and what you do or say or how you act?

I’m a recovering perfectionist and a recovering people pleaser. Making sure people were happy and got along was one of my highest priorities, no matter what it cost me. There were so many times that I chose to go along with what others wanted, even when asked for my opinion or desire, because I didn’t want to upset the apple cart or be a burden. I didn’t like to say no if I was asked to do something, even if it was going to be a major inconvenience for me. If someone else was feeling upset or frustrated, I internalized his or her emotions and felt like the problem was my responsibility to fix, even if it wasn’t my fault.

Do you know what that got me? A lovely, large dose of resentment and frustration, and feelings of exhaustion and guilt. Do you know what that cost me? It cost me my dignity and practically cost me my sanity.

One of the first times I realized I couldn’t fix everything was when I was sixteen and working at my first job at a fast-food restaurant. A disgruntled customer came up to the counter after receiving his meal and eating in the lobby for several minutes. He was very clearly angry and told my manager and me that his dish did not have enough meat in it, as he severely pointed first at the promotional cardboard picture of the dish he had ordered, which was placed on top of my cash register, and then at the small pile of meat he had placed in the corner of his tray. The scant remains of his dish were still in the foil bowl in the middle of the tray. My manager told him that we put the same amount of meat in each dish and that she was sorry that he was upset, and she tried to figure out how to make it right. Like a scene out of a sitcom, the man ignored her, uttered a few choice words, then simply proceeded to grab the promotional picture right off the top of my register and march with it clutched in his hand out the door of the restaurant, never to return.

At the time, I remember being so shocked and upset that I went to the back of the restaurant in the cooking area and started to cry. It was one of the first times in my very sheltered life that I had encountered an angry person and I couldn’t do anything about it, and I felt like I had failed. My manager came back with me and encouraged me that everything would be okay and that there would always be people who were unhappy with things in life, and that I couldn’t fix everything, so I had to not worry about it so much. It was truly a great life lesson, but I only partially internalized it at the time.

As an adult who has worked really hard at personal growth over the last few years, I look at the man’s childish behavior now with a mixture of humor and pity. By picking all the meat out of his dish, it couldn’t have been a very satisfying meal. And what in the heck was he going to do with a cardboard cutout of a chicken pot pie? Did his tirade help him to feel better about himself? I always wondered how much of the meat ended up in his stomach and how much ended up on the tray.

I have had more encounters with people over the years, and they have slowly become less of an emotional breaking point for me like they were when I was younger, but I won’t lie – confrontations and disagreements are still emotionally difficult. Especially when they are with the people I’m closest to.

There have been a few times where I have had to speak with close family members after situations or conversations where I felt like I was being disrespected or not listened to, and they were really hard. For a few years I just decided to let things go and not mention things, but I started to realize that my resentment and frustration toward people was building, and I decided that I don’t want to jeopardize a relationship by not speaking my truth and what is on my mind and heart and figuring out how to move forward together with the person with mutual understanding.

It took a lot of time, and I had to learn to be okay with confrontation and productive disagreements, because I realized that if I chose to not be honest, it was slowly killing me. I had to start setting healthy boundaries so that I felt in control of my life.

Now I try to use diplomacy and tact while clearly stating what I want, need, can or can’t do. If someone asks me what I want or what I think about something, I give a true answer. I have a rule for myself now that if I can’t fully, 100-percent-wholeheartedly say yes to something or someone, I say no. If there is hesitation, it’s a no. If someone says something that offends me or hurts my feelings, I say something and let the person know how his or her words made me feel. I advocate for myself so that I can respect myself. And as much as I still struggle with it, I really try to let things go. I don’t want negative things to have power over me.

The best thing about setting better boundaries and advocating for myself is that my self-confidence and self-respect has grown by leaps and bounds. The more I do it, the easier it gets.

Here’s the thing: I can’t control anyone else, nor am I responsible for anyone else’s feelings, happiness, boundaries, or issues.

I can’t make anyone else happy, I can’t set anyone else’s boundaries, and I can’t fix other people. That’s their responsibility, not mine. I can only fix me. I have the responsibility for me, not anyone else. As long as I do my best to treat others with kindness and set healthy boundaries for myself and be the best person I can be, I have done my job. If I try to control things that are outside the realm of my actual control, I’m asking for hurt, guilt, pain, and exhaustion.

You can take ownership of yourself and give up ownership of the things that are out of your control; it’s never too late to start. It may be a hard process and you may struggle with it for a while or even for the rest of your life, but it’s worth it. You are worth it.