I’ve always felt pretty chuffed about my ability to be an optimist. I often list it as a strength when my husband and I are arguing about one thing or another. “You’re such a dark cloud,” I’ll throw at him, as he points out the negatives in a situation. Or takes the cynical approach. Lately, though, I’m starting to wonder if this attitude of mine needs tempering. I can see that it creates blind spots.

This is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. It was a friend leaving her marriage that really threw it into the spotlight for me. She was questioning why it had taken her so long to spot the signs this was not a healthy or safe place for her. “You were so focused on making it work that you didn’t have time to stop and think about yourself.” In saying the words to my friend, I suddenly realised I could just as easily been talking about myself. 

Of course, many of us have experienced this in relationships. I have often thought about how tightly I clung onto that first relationship I had - the first time I felt that obsessive, all-consuming love for someone. I didn’t think about whether it worked for me or if I was happy. I had decided it would hurt more to get over him than suffer alongside him. And it wasn’t until several years later when I fell in love with a great guy—someone with whom friendship was the bedrock of what was between us—that I considered how scary it was that I didn’t walk away from someone who was lashing out at me. In the end, of course he had to dump me. I was determined to make it work. I was willing it to last. I was blindly optimistic. 

“Where was your self-respect?” I have whispered to myself over the years. Where was the voice the questioned: “don’t I deserve better?”

A few years ago, for a story, I went to see an energy healer. When she asked me to focus in on any pain I could feel in my body and call up the cause of it, guess whose face popped into my mind after years of barely giving him a second thought? That boy from 25 years ago. In the session, the tears streamed down my face as I confronted him. The final step in the session was forgiving that 18-year-old version of myself, and bringing her back into my body. Honestly, I still get chills thinking about it. I know - woo-woo, but so cathartic. 

Of course we could write this off as a coming-of-age moment. And yes, perhaps it taught me to spot destructive patterns in romantic relationships. But this pattern has also snuck into my work life. I have found myself leaving roles or having contracts conclude, and only after the fact coming to the conclusion that it was a relief to be out. True, it’s harder to spot when a role goes from being satisfying to something you are white-knuckling your way through, determined to make work. We dress it up as ambition. We label it as work stress. But sometimes that grit within… that desire to make the best out of whatever life throws at us… that “keep calm and carry on” mantra that’s in a poster on our wall… it doesn’t serve us. Sometimes, it keeps us going straight when we need to take a hard right. 

So, how do we show up and be a good employee or partner or friend, while still remembering to factor in our own needs? And how do we stop feeling guilty when we do decide to say “yes” to what works for us, which of course means saying “no” to others? 

Sometimes, we do realise we want change, but then the pressure to feel grateful for what we have shows up. An inner voice may try to nullify this urge for more with, “perhaps we should be happy with what we have.” That’s the part of us that doesn’t want change. That wants to play it safe. That just wants an easy life. That knows desire complicates things. 

More than a few therapists I’ve spoken to for stories (a very handy way to get advice!) say this can be an excellent coping mechanism for women leading busy lives, juggling family with work and everything else life entails. It’s a way of ensuring we are able to keep on going, meeting all the unrelenting demands on our time. Change and agitating for our own needs can make it harder to keep on top of everything else.

Still, fellow optimists and people with can-do attitudes, we do need to make sure our own needs are being considered. And to that end, there’s a simple question I’ve started asking myself to help gauge whether I really am satisfied, or if I have gone into full-tilt ”silver linings” mode: “Would I choose this role/friendship/piece-of-clothing-hanging-in-my-closet for myself, today?” The answer is there right away. It’s a gut response. And sometimes it’s surprising. 

For instance, you might find a job you feel totally over is actually okay for now. Meanwhile, half the dresses hanging in your wardrobe, it turns out, just don’t reflect who you are or how you like to dress anymore. So it’s goodbye. There’s nothing wrong with being someone who works hard to make things work… as long as you don’t lose yourself along the way.