You're allowed to put yourself on Do Not Disturb
on going scarce for a while, the guilt we feel, and where connection still shows up
I stared at the highlighted pages in my hand, trying to decipher the difference between schizoid and schizotypal personality disorders, when a text popped up on my Apple Watch: "Hey, we’re over here at the bar if you want to come have a drink with us tonight!"
Said bar was right down the street. And as much as I wanted to go, I felt that mix of frustration and guilt when I typed back, "Ugh, I wish I could. I’m studying."
It’s not the last-minute invite that got to me. It’s that there was a time I wouldn’t have thought twice about saying, "Yes! Be there in 15." That sort of flexibility just wasn’t there, though. My cup was starting to trickle over, which meant it was time to deprioritize some things.
This happened last winter, but those same feelings of frustration and guilt have been creeping in all week. Full-time work, fall semester classes starting (I’m getting a second degree in psychology and have been taking classes on and off, woo!), tending to family, tending to my body. It’s been…a lot.
After a stacked few days, last night I felt that ever-so-familiar tightness in my chest — my light burning out simply over the expectations I’ve placed on myself with this blog.
On our evening walk, my husband said, "Well, just don’t write one this week."
I was screaming inside. That’s not an option! How could he even think it is? Does he even know me?
Lol
"Well, I’ve committed to this,” I said.
"But don’t do it if it’s stressing you out. You said this blog was supposed to be a fun outlet for you."
I thought about what he said for a second. "You’re right. And it is. And I committed to it because I WANT to do it. I don’t want it to take a backseat."
He gets it, of course. But my dear husband just doesn’t want to see me stressed tf out. He always wants to fix things. And I do love him for it.
So now here I am today, in ALL THE FEELS about this blog. And the question I’m noodling on is this: am I actually deprioritizing community if I keep this blog going?
Because the blog and its companion email are connection. It’s you and me, right now. And school is too, even in a virtual setting: building things with my fellow students, learning from and finding rapport with my professor, the back-and-forth I crave with people who are striving for something bigger than themselves. So maybe I’m not cutting community at all, or the commitment to this blog. Maybe they’re just…changing shape. And shifting a bit to fit into the shorter fall days ahead.
It’s strange to feel even remotely okay about it, because up until recently, I thought community had to look like availability. Showing up often and fast. I’m sure you can relate. That addiction to urgency is something we’ve all gotten wayyyyy too used to, mostly thanks to these tiny computers in our palms.
But what if we could collectively let ourselves breathe instead?
Miss each other a little?
Maybe even not take it personally when someone doesn’t text back right away, or can’t attend the celebration you chose to prioritize?
Of course, this reshaped sense of community doesn’t make me miss the friend who texts from the bar, or the loved one throwing a party any less. These are real losses to me, and I’m not going to say they don’t matter. They do. But there will be another season where I can favor them over my current commitments.
As for where this blog and email newsletter works into a season that no longer includes lazy, school-free summer nights, I’m not quite sure yet.
Maybe I still post weekly, but an email doesn’t always land on a Wednesday.
Maybe committing to sharing my stories with you doesn’t mean doing it on an exact schedule no matter what (including one that sacrifices my sanity lol).
Maybe committing to this blog, community, and everything else I value looks like me deciding what keeping my word means.
I’ll let you know when I figure things out.
While you’re here…remember that some of the most precious relationships are built to survive a season of you being scarce. And not just survive, but offer grace when you have no other choice than to disappear for a while.
And it goes both ways, my friend. If a loved one falls off the face of the Earth, then resurfaces a month later with a dumb IG reel that made them think of you? Could you let that be enough for you to know you’re still important to them? They were probably just busy tending to their own seasonal shifts.
And I imagine it will always be a season to give people in our orbit the understanding we’d want when it’s our turn to go silent.
–Natalie
