I think being the eldest daughter permanently installs some weird shit in your brain.

At least it did in mine.

I’m in my 40s now and I’m realizing how many things I do without even thinking about them.

I’m the person who notices things.

And I know exactly where some of that came from.

I grew up with a mother whose moods could change in a second. You learned pretty quickly to pay attention. You knew what kind of mood she was in. You knew what might set her off. You knew that if something needed to be done, it was better to do it before she noticed it wasn’t done.

Because if she noticed it first?

You were probably fucked.

So I got really good at noticing things.

The dishes were still in the sink? Handle them.

Something was out of place? Fix it.

Something wasn’t done yet? Do it before she sees it.

Someone seemed irritated? Figure out why.

Something might become a problem later? Get ahead of it.

It wasn’t necessarily about being helpful. A lot of the time, it was about avoiding the explosion.

When you grow up like that, you get very good at reading a room.

You notice the change in someone’s voice.

You notice when someone walks into a room and the mood feels different.

You notice the little things other people don’t seem to notice.

And then you start doing something about them.

Because that’s what you learned.

So now, as an adult, I’m the person who sees something that needs to be done and immediately starts thinking about how to deal with it.

Something needs to be done? I notice it.

Someone needs something? I notice it.

Something might become a problem later? Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already thought about it seventeen times.

Nobody has to ask me.

Nobody has to tell me.

My brain just apparently decided a long time ago that it is my job to keep track of everything.

And I’m tired.

Just Because I Can Doesn’t Mean I Should

Not necessarily tired of helping people. I don’t mind helping people.

It’s the automatic part that I’m trying to unlearn.

The I’ll do it that comes out of my mouth before I’ve even stopped to think about whether I actually want to do it.

The don’t worry, I’ve got it.

The I’ll take care of that.

The it’s fine.

Sometimes I don’t even realize I’ve volunteered myself until it’s already happening.

Then later I’m sitting there wondering why the fuck I’m stressed.

Oh.

Because I said yes to six things I didn’t actually need to say yes to.

Cool.

And this is where I think the eldest daughter thing comes into it, too.

You get used to being responsible.

You get used to being the one who notices.

You get used to figuring things out.

You get used to thinking ahead because somebody has to.

And eventually you start treating that like your job even when nobody has actually asked you to do it.

I’ve spent a lot of my life being the person who remembers things.

Birthdays.

Appointments.

Things that need to be bought.

Things that need to be done.

Things that might go wrong.

Things that could become a problem if nobody deals with them now.

My brain is basically a running list of shit.

And then I wonder why I can’t relax.

No shit.

I’m carrying around a mental inventory of everybody else’s problems.

I think one of the biggest things I’m trying to unlearn is that just because I can handle something doesn’t mean I should.

Those are two completely different things.

I can handle it.

Okay.

But does it actually belong to me?

That’s the question I don’t ask often enough.

Just because I notice something doesn’t mean I have to fix it.

Just because I know how to do something doesn’t mean I have to volunteer.

Just because something would be easier if I handled it doesn’t mean I should handle it.

That last one gets me constantly.

Because sometimes I can see exactly how something could be fixed.

I know what needs to happen.

I know how long it’ll take.

And my brain immediately goes, Well, just do it.

Why?

Because I can?

That’s not a reason.

But apparently my brain didn’t get that memo.

Saying No Without a Fucking Explanation

I’m also trying to get better at saying no without immediately feeling like I need to explain myself.

This is harder than it should be.

I’ll say no and then immediately start preparing a fucking legal defense.

I’m sorry, I can’t because…

It’s just that…

I would, but…

Maybe another time…

Why am I doing this?

I said no.

That’s the answer.

I don’t need to submit supporting documentation.

And sometimes I haven’t even been asked to explain myself. I’ll just start explaining anyway.

Because somewhere along the way, I learned that saying no needed to come with a good enough reason.

So I’m trying to get comfortable with just not wanting to.

I don’t want to.

That’s enough.

I don’t have to be busy.

I don’t have to be overwhelmed.

I don’t have to have a scheduling conflict.

I can just not want to do something.

Still working on that one.

 

Everyone Else’s Feelings Are Not My Emergency

And then there’s the part where I feel responsible for everyone else’s feelings.

Someone is quiet?

Are they mad?

Someone seems off?

Did I do something?

Someone is having a bad day?

Okay, what can I do?

This one is probably directly connected to growing up constantly paying attention to somebody else’s mood.

You learn to watch for signs.

You learn to notice changes.

You learn to figure out what’s coming before it happens.

And when you carry that into adulthood, someone else’s bad mood can feel like a problem you need to solve.

Except it isn’t.

People are allowed to be annoyed.

People are allowed to have a bad day.

People are allowed to be quiet.

People can be in a mood that has absolutely nothing to do with me.

I know this.

My brain still occasionally goes, Okay, but should we do something?

No.

We should not.

Sit down.

Not everything needs to be fixed.

That has been a surprisingly difficult thing to accept.

Sometimes people are just having a shitty day.

Sometimes someone is upset and there isn’t anything I need to do about it.

Sometimes the best thing I can do is leave them alone.

And sometimes I need to leave myself alone, too.

I Have Enough of My Own Shit

Because I have enough of my own shit.

I don’t need to keep taking on everyone else’s.

I don’t want to constantly be thinking about what somebody else forgot, what somebody else needs, what somebody else might be upset about, what somebody else should be doing.

I have bills.

I have chores.

I have books I haven’t read.

I have approximately 900 things living in my brain at any given moment.

I do not need to add everybody else’s problems to the list.

The annoying part is that sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.

I’ll already be halfway into solving something before it occurs to me that nobody asked me to solve it.

I’ll already be trying to make something easier for someone else.

I’ll already be thinking about what they need next.

And then I have to stop and go:

Wait.

Why am I doing this?

Sometimes there isn’t even a good reason.

It’s just habit.

It’s old programming.

It’s something I learned a long time ago and carried with me.

And I’m trying to interrupt it.

Not perfectly.

Just enough to catch myself sometimes.

I Don’t Always Have It

Because there are also times when I genuinely don’t want to be responsible for anything.

I don’t want to be the one who knows where everything is.

I don’t want to be the one who remembers what everyone forgot.

I don’t want to be the one who steps in because I know it’ll be faster.

I don’t want to be the one holding everything together and then wondering why nobody notices when I’m exhausted.

If I keep saying I’ve got it, people are going to assume I’ve got it.

That’s kind of how that works.

So I’m trying to stop saying it automatically.

Sometimes I don’t have it.

Sometimes I don’t want to deal with it.

Sometimes I need somebody else to help.

Sometimes I want somebody else to figure it out.

And sometimes I just want to sit down.

Resting Without Earning It

That one is still weird for me.

There is always something that needs to be done.

That’s the problem.

I can finish one thing and immediately see three more things waiting for me.

Laundry.

Dishes.

An email.

Something I need to clean.

Something I need to organize.

Something I need to remember.

There is always something.

So if I’m waiting until everything is finished before I let myself rest, I’m going to be waiting forever.

I know this.

It still doesn’t stop my brain from going, You could be doing something right now.

Yes.

I could.

I could also sit here.

Sometimes I’m tired and that’s enough reason to sit down.

I don’t need to have completed my entire fucking to-do list first.

I don’t need to earn an hour on the couch.

I don’t need to justify reading a book, playing a game, watching something stupid, or just sitting there doing absolutely nothing.

And if something doesn’t get done today?

It can probably get done tomorrow.

The laundry isn’t going anywhere.

The dishes aren’t going anywhere.

Whatever it is will still be there.

I don’t have to spend every waking minute trying to stay ahead of everything.

That one is taking some getting used to.

I’m Still Going to Be Me

Because when you’ve spent years being responsible, being needed can become part of your identity.

Being the one who knows what to do.

Being the one who can handle it.

Being the one people can count on.

Those aren’t bad things.

I don’t want to stop being dependable.

I don’t want to stop caring about people.

I don’t want to become someone who doesn’t notice anything.

I just don’t want my first instinct to always be What can I do about this?

Sometimes I want to notice something and leave it alone.

Sometimes I want to let somebody else deal with it.

Sometimes I want to say no without spending the rest of the day wondering if I should have said yes.

Sometimes I want someone else’s problem to remain someone else’s problem.

And sometimes I want to be completely useless for an afternoon.

I’m allowed to do that.

I think that’s the part I’m still figuring out in my 40s.

Not how to become less caring.

Not how to stop being responsible.

Just how to stop assuming everything is mine to carry.

Because I don’t think the goal is to get rid of the parts of me that came from all of this.

I’m still going to notice things.

I’m still going to think three steps ahead.

I’m still going to remember the thing everyone else forgot.

I’m probably always going to be the person who sees the problem before anyone else does.

Fine.

That’s me.

But seeing it doesn’t mean I have to fix it.

Knowing how to handle it doesn’t mean I have to volunteer.

Someone else’s mood doesn’t automatically become my emergency.

And just because I can do something doesn’t mean I fucking have to.

That’s the part I’m trying to remember.