rachelpaz

I’m starving…anybody else hungry up in here? I don’t know about you, but I’m generally a very well-fed woman. I don’t miss meals, I don’t watch calories.

And, this isn’t about food. Lately, I’ve been more intentional about surrounding myself with the things and people that feed me, and letting go of the rest. (For the 800th time in my life.) And while that evaluation should perhaps be cut and dried, it’s not always so clear.

Our willingness to be committed to people, careers, and causes is so near and dear to us. We’ve invested, and dammit, we’re going to keep on investing. Because we want to see it through. Because we want the payoff of the victory in the end. Because we’ll feel like we missed out on something really great if we walk away.

Somewhere in the fold of being committed to something, you lose sight of your need to feel fed.

Initially, when we sign up for something – a relationship, a volunteer gig, starting a new business or career, there is something that draws us in. It feels exciting, fulfilling, fun – something compels us toward it. That energy pulls us in because it feeds our excitement and desire for it. 

If the energy that you put in to something isn’t matched by the people you do it with/for, then you begin to feel less fed by it. It’s not sustaining you. 

This is where most of us screw it up.

Picture a poker game. You “ante up” in order to be dealt in the game. As the game goes on, you have to continue betting your chips (investing) in order to stay in the game. 

Imagine playing this game with a potential partner or family member or co-worker. You both ante up; you’re dealt cards. You evaluate your hand, and you decide whether you want to add to your investment to stay in the game, or fold and walk away. 

You invest. 

And let’s just say that the person you’re playing with does not. But they don’t leave the poker table, they just sit there. 

And you feel confused, because that’s not what’s supposed to happen. So you think to yourself, maybe I didn’t invest enough? So you put down more chips. Then you look to your partner to see if they put down some chips. They don’t. They just keep sitting there, eyes getting bigger at the increasing size of the pot. 

Depending on how far you’ve gone along in this game, you may have by now, invested a ton of money that you really didn’t want to lose! And the payout would be so gigantic!! 

Can you see the ridiculousness of playing the game like this? 

So many people play out their interpersonal relationships in this way. When people don’t match you, you work harder and invest more to make it work. And it exhausts you. It sucks your energy. (And it makes you secretly very resentful at them or the situation – raise your hand if you have some repressed anger from a lifetime of doing this.)

When women I work with find themselves in this situation, they often cite that so-and-so took advantage of them, and then they protect themselves to “make sure” they aren’t taken advantage of again. Or, that they’ve chosen the wrong person – so they look high and low to make sure they find someone that matches their criteria. 

Don’t mistake your over-investment for people taking advantage. Or for feeling like you’ve chosen the wrong people. The core problem here isn’t them; it’s that you continued to invest when you weren’t being matched. 

You have a right to want to feel fed by the things you engage in. 

Back to that need to feel fed. It is ok and good and right for you to want to feel fed by the things and people you engage with. 

So first, you have to know what feeds you – and that changes from relationship to relationship, circumstance to circumstance. What are the things about the connection that you value? How do you want to be treated? How do you want to feel? What are the things that make you feel good about being there?

It’s definitely less confronting and less vulnerable to keep throwing chips into the pot than stating what your needs are…but that’s not really getting you what you want, is it? Then you just find yourself in the ridiculous no-win game of poker (because, remember, even if you do win, it was all your money anyway.)

Your turn.

Leave me a comment and tell me five things that have you feel fed in your relationships. (This can be romantic, platonic, familial, work…doesn’t matter.) Once you know these, you can start to develop them in to ways to articulate what you need to create the equal investment – and much more fun – poker game. 

I’m in the middle of running a test group through a new course I’ve designed for women who are tired. Exhausted. Drained. Ain’t got nothing left to give. (Do you get the idea?)

I know, it’s a bit odd for a relationship coach to be focusing on helping people feel less tired, right? Yep! And, for lots of women, it is a significant enough feeling that it keeps them from dating. They either don’t have the energy to date at all, or the idea of dating/dealing with a man makes them feel like babysitters – which, let’s face it, is exhausting!

Yesterday, a woman testing the the course told me that one of the exercises showed her that all the things she does for other people that drain her energy involve emotional labor. It made me giddy. Giddy, because I knew all the things that were draining her energy could stop being things that drained her energy!

Here’s the thing: if you’ve heard anything about emotional labor, you’ve probably jumped out of your seat and cheered, “Omigod, someone finally gets it!” (Emotional labor is loosely defined as a concept that women largely carry a load of tasks and mental energy that goes unrecognized in the world, contributing to homes and workplaces in ways that aren’t seen.)

And, here’s the other thing: every bit of emotional labor you’re doing, you chose to do. 

Emotional labor is a glamorized version of making yourself a victim. It feels like someone is forcing you to do this thing that you don’t really want to do. 

Who’s going to keep the calendar? Who’s going to throw the office birthday parties? Who will know when it’s time to get school supplies for the kids?

Guess what? If it’s really necessary, someone will figure it out. And it doesn’t have to be you. 

The hidden rub of doing emotional labor.

Chances are good that some (many?) of the things you’re doing that fall into the emotional labor camp are actually things you want to be doing. Chances are also good that you want to be recognized for them. This is why, when we don’t get recognized for them, we cry wolf and act as if people have put this expectation on us and it’s not fair. (That’s so much easier than owning that we just spent a whole lot of time and energy on something that people don’t give much of a shit about.)

What happens when you give up doing emotional labor?

You don’t feel like you owe anyone anything. You get to do for the love of doing. You feel free to say no. You don’t have to pick up or juggle every ball that you see.

There may be some conflict initially, as people try to keep you in the box that you’ve been living in, and that’s ok. Consider it a solid exercise in articulating your boundaries and your worth. It’s your life – no one else gets to decide how you live it but you.

The apparent downsides of giving up emotional labor (that aren’t actually downsides at all).

• You have 100% agency about how you choose to invest your time and energy. Always.
• You have to accept that your way of doing things is not the ONLY way to do things. The other ways can be right as well.
• If you choose to take on tasks, you get to find the joy in doing them purely for the joy of doing them – not for what it gets you in return. (This is an amazing gift.)
• You get to experience your worth not being wrapped up in what you do or don’t do for others. Also, an incredible gift. 
• Since this is no longer a quid pro quo situation, you get to learn how to ask for what you need and want in a more direct way. 

Your turn. 

Here’s what I know for sure. As a woman who used to do ALL.THE.EMOTIONAL.LABOR – and harbored a ton of resentment about it – but is now a woman who does none, there are ways to shift the levels of fatigue and exhaustion you feel in your life that have nothing to do with sleep or diet or exercise. 

If you’ve been staying away from dating and relationships because the thought of it just makes you feel tired, chances are good it’s you taking on thing that just aren’t yours to carry.

Want to start to see how you can get back some of your energy so that life is more fun and less laden with things to take care of? Go here to book a completely complimentary, no-strings-attached, 90-minute call with me, and we’ll dive right in.

Today I’m sharing a story that is more personal, because it was one of the biggest revelations I’d ever had about my relationships. Game-changer, in fact. 

A few years back, I was in the middle of taking a personal development and coaching program.  One of the components of the program, which I attended once a month for a long weekend, was something called relationship research. 

The first day of that weekend was grueling. We were each given a thick packet of paperwork, and asked to spend what felt like several hours inventorying our past relationships.

It was like reliving every painful thing that had ever occurred to me. 

The guy I longed for in college, but who rejected me because I wouldn’t ever be happy enough staying home and raising children. A line-item dissection of all the reasons my marriage fell apart. A man I’d dated after my divorce who was clear that our paths were very different. 

The list was long. And, after documenting galore, I could see it so clearly. The most obvious one was that I jumped ship emotionally in every single one of those relationships at the exact same point: when I got scared that there wasn’t a way to have what I wanted. I pretended I didn’t care, and then overcompensated by trying to prove them wrong. But I never, ever shared the thing I wanted that didn’t feel possible. 

Ugh. It was a downer. 

Up until then, I’d just thought all that my relationships not working out was the result of choosing the wrong person. Bad timing. Bad life circumstances. 

But here it was in black and white. 

I was the reason they hadn’t worked out.

I’d kept a really significant secret from each of them by not sharing what I’d wanted, and in turn, chasms had been created. So I worked really hard at the aspects of the relationship that weren’t that vulnerable, poking holes at all the things that were “wrong.” But what was really wrong was that I was avoiding asking for what I wanted. At some point, there was a gap that could not be bridged.

I cried. I felt guilty for all the blame I’d placed on them for screwing things up. I also felt a fear so deep, I was shaking. To claim the desires of the depths of my soul in front of another human being felt so confronting. 

And, just like that, we were brought back together as a group. We were asked to sit with our relationship research partner. There was some reflection on what we learned shared in the group. 

It ended with us being asked to stand, and participate in a group ceremony. We were told our research commitment was going to be affirmed with the exchange of rings. My partner had scored some matching iridescent gum ball machine rings, and he offered one to me. 

I was feeling nauseous. My whole body was rejecting the notion of confronting my role in relationships…and the similarities to a wedding ceremony had me all the more revolted. 

I could barely speak the words, but in the end, we held hands and declared our vows of research. Mine involved telling the full truth about what I wanted. 

It could have been the closest I’ve ever been to a panic attack. 

(Incidentally, this is part of a bigger story I’m telling over on Instagram, if you’re dying to know what happens next!)

Your turn

Try this: grab a piece of paper, and list your significant relationships. For each of them, ask yourself what you really wanted in the relationship and note that. Then, see if you can identify what made you feel like you couldn’t have it (maybe it felt vulnerable, maybe you felt like you didn’t deserve it, etc.) Then see if you can find the behaviors that showed up as a result. Were these the behaviors that ultimately led to separation and disconnection in the relationship?

What do you see about your relationships? Is there a pattern to what’s been happening?

(And remember, once you see the pattern, you can change it – that’s what I’m here for. If you want to schedule a FREE, no-strings-attached call to take a look at it together, let’s do it.)