The adults in my family participate in a gift exchange for Christmas, so that instead of giving each person something small, I spend my modest budget on one nice item for just one person. We’ve been doing this for years, with success.
I noticed something this past year as I put together my wish list for my secret giver. My list included a hodgepodge of items: a cookbook, stationery, a gift card to a local running store. These are all things I would like, of course, but I realized that this particular list was less about what I really wanted and more about accommodating the possible giver. My sister-in-law, cook extraordinaire, would enjoy browsing Sur La Table when she shopped for the cookbook. My mom, the queen of social graces, would slip in sticks of sealing wax to go with a box of fine linen paper. My brother, Mr. Fitness, would be pumped to get me something that supported my goal to run a 5K later this year.
This reminded me of something Lisa said to me about how we need to get better about asking our friends and family for help. This is so important as we work through our phases of grief over being childless, and it can be so hard to do. For example, when I haven’t been clear about what I need, I’ve had friends say things like, “You want kids, take mine—ha ha!” (So not helping. And I’d be happy to take them, by the way.) One couple thought it would be easier on me if I wasn’t invited to any gatherings that included children, which, as their family grew, quickly became almost all gatherings. (So I just felt more isolated.)
I, of course, wasn’t much help. When asked, I’d say things like, “Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” Rubbish. I thought I was letting them off the hook, but really, I needed to be more aware that they genuinely wanted to help in meaningful ways.
So maybe I can do better. The next time someone asks me how she can best support me on this crazy journey, my thoughtful and real response might include:
“I don’t want to talk about it. Just give me a big hug when you see me.”
“Let me come to your daughter’s dance recital, and don’t take it personally when I leave without saying good-bye (because I’ve been crying).”
“Take me to a funny movie so we can laugh really hard for a change.”
“Be patient with me. The real, happy me is evolving, and I’ll be ready to re-enter the world soon.”
By the way, in addition to the wrapped gift-exchange package, I got what I truly wanted for Christmas: face time with people I hold dear and time off from work, i.e., a bit of peace on Earth.
Kathleen Guthrie Woods is a Northern California–based freelance writer. She is mostly at peace with her childfree status.
This one is so difficult for me. And honestly I worry about it constantly. I mean if I don’t start speaking up for myself now, how will I ever do it when I am older and sick or unable to care for myself. I was raised to “please people” so I need to take a class or read a book or something to start changing my behavior so I will ask for what I need now and in the next 20-30 years. sigh…
This one is so difficult for me. And honestly I worry about it constantly. I mean if I don’t start speaking up for myself now, how will I ever do it when I am older and sick or unable to care for myself. I was raised to “please people” so I need to take a class or read a book or something to start changing my behavior so I will ask for what I need now and in the next 20-30 years. sigh…
Yes this is really difficult – I have faked “I’m ok for so long”, everyone now genuinely thinks I’m OK and have been for 2 decades. I had a complete melt down a year ago – and guess what my Mum thought, “I had marital problems or had started the change”! Neither of which she concluded on her own – a friend of hers hinted that she may need to tread carefully if it was the menopause. Needless to say – she’s not helped now and couldn’t before – I guess I thought people would figure it out and I wouldn’t need to spell it out or ask them to cut me some slack here and there. It seems we do need to tell them how to help us – this is particularly difficult when you are caught in the emotion of everything. Perhaps some friends and family guidance is needed?
That great old adage “I’m fine” is a good excuse to keep everyone at arm’s length.
A few years ago we visited a schoolfriend that lived on the other side of the country. We rarely see each other but we email often. They had suffered an ectopic pregnancy many years ago and took many more years before being able to conceive.
We’ve visited several times and have a lovely rapport with their kids, which is funny, considering the distance. This specific time their son was having his school breakup day/award ceremony one afternoon. The hubbies were already off doing something so I was happy (really) to tag along and experience my first school occasion. She asked me several times if I really wanted to go, she wouldn’t be offended if I stayed behind, she knew it would probably be boring for me. I told her that we got to spend some time together, the location didn’t really matter. It was an eye opener for me, having had no school experiences with kids before.
But she knew (from her experiences of what might trigger us), and she knew me better than I probably realised, despite me saying ‘I’m okay’, so I think she was being extra careful that I didn’t feel obligated. It was a lovely day, a bit emotional, and she’s the only person I know who has walked a similar path and maintained that empathy and understanding.
I guess we have to meet people at least half way, and start to speak out when things may be difficult for us, that we’d still love the invite, but may not always be up to attending.