The phenomenon of protecting personal space should be easier than this.

You know when you’re just going about your own business, living your life, and someone actually asks you to do something with them? “Let’s go out to dinner,” or “Do you want to come over?” And, sometimes, all it takes is a single-lined text, “What are you up to?”

Upon receiving the inciting invitation, I immediately become defensive. Who are you, and are you welcome here?

In my mind’s eye, I become an iron-suited ninja–my face shielded by metal, I raise a sword so sharp that it tears through the air with an audible cut high above my head, my other palm open-faced pressed toward the threat. I squat low into my ankles with my knees wide, and my feet firmly planted below me; the metal lapel clangs against my thighs. I’m ready to protect my palace.

What the hell am I defending? My time, my focus, my inner peace, or maybe turmoil or the pressure I put on my presentation. I could be feeling cranky, fat, ugly, unpresentable–the list goes on.

Other times, when I’ve said yes to an invitation for dinner two Fridays from now, I must have been drinking, and it’s time to fulfill my promise, I realize I’ve set myself up for disaster. How could I possibly have known what state of mind I would be in two Fridays from then? So much could have happened that I really needed solitude and rest. If the act of presenting myself for small talk and chit-chat over drinks and linguine seems daunting, is it okay to back out?

I could be as happy and busy as the energizer bunny going about my life’s tasks when the time comes; then I panic, balloon out like a puffer fish with porcupine quills ready to stab innocent bystanders. I stare hypnotized into the light fixture above me in the kitchen and say, “Oh no. What did I do?”

I’m writing this post wondering if others feel this way? I’m also wondering what the hell is wrong with me? Or perhaps there is nothing wrong with me, and I am still learning how to live my life for myself. After all, I wouldn’t get so defensive if there was no possible way the blatant activity invitor could poke and prod me into a decision I wasn’t wholly behind. Right?

NO! The truth is I don’t trust myself to make the declining choice for a good enough reason. As if I’m not a good enough reason.

Am I making the right decision? Disappointing her? Does saying no mean that I’m not trustworthy or not a good person?

NO! If I am true to myself and straightforward with how I want to live my life, I become the most trustworthy, dependable, and reliable person I can be. And it’s the only way to begin trusting myself. I must keep my promises to me first and then sometimes to others even if I’ve changed my mind. It boils down to the importance of the situation.

Also, Didn’t I just see you? Oh right, that was Facebook, or maybe it was Instagram. I already know everything you’ve been up to. What will we talk about? I looked at all 57 photos you posted about your trip to Argentina; didn’t you see my comment and, my like, one of the hundreds?

I’m afraid I have to disagree with those who claim that we lack personal connections; because if we did, we wouldn’t use an impersonal social media port to connect. I’m beginning to believe most adult children of the ’70s have had enough socializing. Well, I guess I can only speak for myself. My family and the couple of dear friends I have in my life are the only socializing I need. Give me a family get-together, and I’ll be there!

To be truthful, I always am, the only people who ask to spend time with me are those that I love so much I would; and, it is not that I don’t want to see them, but for some reason, invitations of the one on one nature and out of the blue freak me out.

And speaking of this thing we call life, I think it’s entirely a personal secret. Is it even describable if someone asked you what you love most about your life? I argue that it’s not your significant other but how you feel about them. It’s not your job, home, or children; it’s your feelings about these things that fill you with glory.

It’s like a secret personalized set of instructions that are easy to follow if you listen and honor them. You can find it inside you disguised as gut feelings, goals, and dreams. Mine is indescribable, and no one could ever truly understand. Just like I can’t understand yours–we have to take each other’s word for it. Let’s stop requiring an explanation or excuse for choosing to live our happiest lives.

I’m here doing me, and your invitation is equivalent to the disruption of a giant sneeze–I forget what I’m doing; I need to get a tissue, now I have to pee, the dog was asleep now he’s not and needs to go out. I’ve lost all focus; I panic that I’m going to miss out, yet I don’t know how to say no because I’m not sure you will judge my reasons as valid enough.

Can we normalize simplistic no’s? “No, I’m sorry. I can’t.” And just promise it won’t hurt our relationship?

In the ’80s, 90’s, hell even early 2000’s, I said yes to everything. Maybe I was more ambitious, or I just didn’t know how to say no. There will always be someone doing something, but I don’t have to be one of them all the time. Or even one-fifth of the time. If we could teach our children that they don’t have to be on the go constantly, they would learn their boundaries and listen to their bodies and minds instead of letting the guilt of disappointing people take over.

And all of the shame inciting comments like, “You can sleep when you’re dead.” Um, no, I won’t. I will be dead, a thing I don’t want to be, therefore I won’t be able to sleep. And if I keep listening to you, I may just die sooner.

So there you have it–my gripe and puzzle of the month. I’m sure I’ll piss someone off. Hell, some people get mad if I’m not a good enough Facebook friend; this will surely stir their pot. It’s an excellent time to practice the art of not giving a shit. Because if I have offended someone for doing what is best for me, they are not my people.

Tina L. Hendricks