The Art of Showing Up

by Rachel Wilkerson Miller

  How will you feel during and after the get-together?

  Will you be able to be truly present—that is, fully focused on your friend, with your phone off and put away? Or will you feel stressed, impatient, and/or distracted? Will you feel happy and energized the next day . . . or will you resent the friend for inviting you in the first place, or for the time and money you spent on the outing? Be honest about whether you’re going to be able to give your friend your best (or best-ish) self in this moment. If you’re going to be there physically but will be on another planet emotionally and mentally, that’s a strong sign you should cancel or reschedule.

  If you bail, how will you feel?

  Take a minute to consider how you’ll feel during and after canceling. If you opt out, will you actually relax/study/rest/do chores with that time, or will you just feel guilty and futz around on Instagram instead? Will you spend more time and energy trying to make it up to the person later than you would if you just went? If your goal is to make a decision confidently and fully own your choice, it can be super helpful to think about it from different angles.

  Is there anything you wish you’d done differently early on?

  Perhaps when you were making these plans, you told yourself you’d feel more enthusiastic about roller skating or amateur improv or music festivals by the time the big day rolled around . . . but now that day is tomorrow and wow, yeah, you still hate all of those things and really want to cancel. Which I get! I used to find myself in that position regularly! That’s why I’m such a big believer in saying no to invitations when you’re asked. If you determine that you should have just declined at the outset, or spoken up about your needs and preferences sooner, consider making a deal with yourself: You can opt out this time, but the next time a similar invitation comes your way, you have to be honest and say no up front—even if it’s hard, and even if you don’t have a “good” reason. You owe it to yourself and to your friends to do that work.

  Is this more of a Them Problem than a You Problem?

  If you’re inclined to cancel because you feel terrible every time you hang out with this person or these people, that’s very good information to have! In that case, don’t just consider canceling; consider whether this relationship is actually serving you and worth your time in the first place. (If it’s not, you may find the friend breakup tips in Chapter 10 helpful.)

  You OK, buddy?

  If you’re regularly canceling plans (or just seriously considering it) because you feel tired, overwhelmed, or just not up for it, do yourself—and your pals—a solid and consider whether something deeper is going on. Losing interest in socializing and being perpetually exhausted can be a sign of mental or physical health issues, so it might be wise to start keeping track of these instances in a journal or an app. Or just take a look at your calendar for the past few months and do some self-reflection! If you find that you’re canceling more plans than you’re keeping, or you feel drained all the time, it might be time to talk to a health care provider or therapist.

  How to Cancel Plans Graciously

  If you do decide to cancel, it’s not the end of the world. Seriously! Sure, your friend might be bummed out—but it’s helpful to recognize that this is the natural and correct response from them, even if you definitely made the right choice for yourself in this moment. You’re not wrong to cancel, and they’re not wrong to be kind of disappointed. That said, putting a little thought into how you cancel is what will keep canceled plans from turning into five-alarm friendship fire. Here are some tips to keep in mind.

  Think about whether you can adjust the plans in any way.

  More often than not, our friends just want to see us and don’t care about going to a fancy restaurant or doing a cool activity. So think about what you would be up for doing, and consider offering that as an alternative to your pal instead of outright bailing. You might say something like:

  “Hey, friend, I’m completely exhausted and broke right now, and am honestly feeling very stressed about our plans for tomorrow night. I really want to catch up with you, though—would you be up for coming to my place and letting me cook you dinner instead of us going all the way to New Jersey? And we could still plan to go to Medieval Times next month, once I’ve finished this big project and my bonus paycheck has hit.”

  Even if they say they’d rather just cancel, most people will really appreciate the fact that you asked them to be a part of the decision-making process. It communicates that you genuinely care about them but still know how to set boundaries and honor your own needs.

  Own the titles of Captain Rescheduling and Chief Next Hangout Officer.

  If at all possible, reschedule in the same conversation so the friend knows you are still genuinely interested in hanging out with them. If they don’t confirm or they don’t seem very interested, follow up within a week to try to plan something new.

  Be as honest as possible about why you’re canceling.

  Y’all: Don’t say your car broke down if you’re actually hungover as hell. A lot of the time people can tell when you’re bullshitting them, and an obvious fib can do more damage than the reality you feel a tad embarrassed about. Remember that being honest is an act of vulnerability, and that vulnerability can actually strengthen a friendship.

  Be considerate.

  Acknowledge that canceling, especially at the last minute, can cost your friend time, money, and energy. That might mean Venmoing them for, say, the cost of their ticket, or the cancellation fee they’re now on the hook for. If it was a group gathering where you were responsible for bringing something (wine, dessert, etc.), offer to drop it off anyway or send it with another friend, if that’s feasible. And always make this part of your initial cancellation message. (So: “I’m so sorry to have to do this, but I’m not going to be able to make it to our mani-pedi appointment tomorrow. The salon’s website says we’ll be charged a twenty-dollar fee, which I will obviously pay.”)

  Own what you should have done differently.

  Most of us just want to feel like the person at fault for our minor inconvenience or disappointment is taking the situation seriously, and showing that you’ve done some self-reflection can really help communicate that. You might want to say something like, “I’ve realized that when I’m this busy with work, I’m probably never going to be able to make weeknight hangouts happen, but I didn’t want to admit that when you invited me, and I apologize for that.”

  Make sure your tone/apology is appropriate for the nature of the event.

  There’s a huge difference between asking to reschedule a coffee date with a coworker pal and telling your best friend you won’t be coming to their wedding next week. If you’re overly apologetic for a fairly minor cancellation (e.g., “I’m the absolute WORST. Do you totally hate me? Can you ever forgive me?”), you run the risk of making your buddy feel like they need to comfort you. But being really casual and nonchalant about a significant cancellation isn’t a good look either. If you’re tempted to overcompensate (or be rather dismissive), it might be because you’re actually feeling vulnerable or uncomfortable about your choice. While that’s totally normal, it’s a good idea to take a moment to center yourself and really own your decision, which will allow you to operate from a sincere, confident, and emotionally honest place when you do ultimately cancel.

  Dealing with Boundary Violations

  Hopefully by now you are getting more comfortable with the idea of telling people no or asking for what you need. But communicating a boundary violation—even one that’s seemingly small and straightforward, like telling someone to stop asking for your Netflix password—can feel particularly fraught. You not only have to be vulnerable, you’re also criticizing another person for something that can feel close to who they are instead of just being about their behavior. And because it all seems so personal, you might feel the need to be extra sure that you’re “allowed” to say something at all. But of course you’re allowed to say something! And, in fact, you often should!


  If you’re hesitant to speak up because you’re not sure whether something really did cross the line, that’s totally understandable! We don’t always “just know” that something isn’t cool with us, and the boundaries that are considered obvious or normal (from a legal, cultural, and psychological perspective) are constantly changing. That said, there are established norms when it comes to boundaries, and if you’re ever unsure about whether something “counts” as bad, it can be helpful to turn to experts to help you see what is healthy and unhealthy; appropriate and inappropriate; abusive or safe or “normal.”

  Or you can just talk to other people you trust! Of course, this method isn’t foolproof—you may discover that your loved ones have extremely outdated definitions of consent, for example—but it’s a good place to start. Sometimes you have to share an experience out loud or see it written down to realize how messed up it is.

  Once you’re sure that someone has crossed a boundary, it’s time to communicate that their behavior is not acceptable. Feel free to dial these suggestions down to extremely gentle, or way up to “Seriously, fuck off.”

  What to say

  “That’s actually really not OK with me at all.”

  “Yeah, I’m not cool with that, to be honest.”

  “I’m really not comfortable [doing this thing], and I need you to let it go.”

  “I find that question pretty inappropriate actually.”

  “That’s a really private topic, and it’s not something I want to talk about with you.” (Note: It can feel incredibly rude to say “with you” to someone, but it’s important, particularly if the person is assuming you have a closer relationship than you want to have, or if they are going to immediately start whining that you do want to talk about it—with other people.)

  “I think we have pretty different comfort levels with regard to this, but my stance is X, it’s not going to change, and I’d really like for us to drop this forever and move on.”

  “This is a no-go for me, and I really need you to accept that.”

  “I really don’t [like that/want to discuss this with you]. Please stop.”

  “I know this is something you [expect me to do/really want/think all friends should share] but I just don’t feel the same way, and I’d really like you to stop asking me about it or trying to convince me to see it your way.”

  “I feel pretty strongly about this and you’re not going to change my mind. I’d like to change the subject now, please!”

  “I’ve told you several times that I’m not OK with you [doing this thing]. The fact that you keep pushing me on this is really weird and extremely not OK, and it needs to stop.”

  “What you’re doing is gross and probably illegal, and it needs to never happen ever again.”

  “I’m reaching my limit on how much of this I’m willing to put up with.”

  “I’ve told you how I feel about this; why do you keep pushing it?”

  And if appropriate, you can communicate the consequences that will occur if the person doesn’t respect your boundary. That might sound something like . . .

  “If you keep pushing this, I’m going to call it a night and head home.”

  “I know X is important to you, but I feel very different about it, and if you continue to pressure me, it’s ultimately going to get in the way of our having a close relationship.”

  “I can’t be friends with someone who doesn’t respect this boundary.”

  “If you can’t hear me on this, I think we are going to have a pretty serious problem.”

  “I have to be honest: If you keep doing this, I’m going to stop [talking to you/hanging out with you/attending your parties/being a member of this group].”

  “I want to have a relationship with you, but you’re not respecting a boundary that’s important to me, and I really need that to change or I’m not going to come around anymore.”

  Finally, remember that being misaligned about boundaries might be a deal breaker—and that doesn’t necessarily mean that either of you are doing anything wrong. It just means this friendship isn’t meant to be, or isn’t meant to progress past a certain point—which is fine!

  Your Phone

  Like many people, I spend a fair amount of time looking at various screens. And while I don’t believe our phones are the root of all evil, I acknowledge that when it comes to showing up for myself (and others), my phone regularly gets in the way. As Cal Newport writes in Digital Minimalism, “Increasingly, [our phones] dictate how we behave and how we feel, and somehow coerce us to use them more than we think is healthy, often at the expense of other activities we find more valuable.”9

  Now, you may be thinking, But I use my phone to talk to my friends, which is a form of self-care. Which is true! That’s why I’m not advocating for renouncing all technology and moving to the woods.

  The overall evidence on using the internet to foster social connections is mixed. But there are some things we do know and that are worth real consideration. First, interacting with people mainly through your phone and social media means you have less time to spend connecting with people in real life, and that real life connection is still pretty important from a cognitive and psychological perspective (even if it doesn’t necessarily feel different or important to you). Further, communicating digitally can easily overwhelm our brains in a way that in-person interaction just doesn’t. And the less we socialize in the real world, the harder it becomes to reenter the meatspace again.

  Track Your IRL Conversations

  Author Celeste Headlee says that while she was writing her book We Need to Talk, she kept a pen-and-paper running tally of every face-to-face interaction she had each day. “Before this exercise, I estimated that I probably had three or four substantive conversations a day,” she writes. “But after tracking them carefully, it turned out that most days I was having perhaps one or two, sometimes none. It felt like more because I was communicating with people all day. But I was rarely talking to them.” I don’t even need to make a list to know this is true for me too. (And not just when I’m in a foxhole writing a book.) And it was far more pronounced when I was living alone, not dating anyone. If you are convinced you’re getting plenty of IRL interaction, it might be helpful to start tracking this and see what you learn.

  What’s more, staying in touch with people might actually be overrated. One of the most compelling articles I came across when researching this topic was an interview in The New York Times with Dr. Robin Dunbar, a professor of evolutionary psychology at Oxford. Dunbar told the Times that social media apps allow us “to maintain relationships that would otherwise decay.”10 While most of us tend to think of this as a good thing, it’s actually not. Some of these relationships actually should decay—that’s necessary for us to have the time and space to establish and nurture new ones.

  Even if you feel your phone usage is healthy overall, it’s likely that your phone (and social media apps more specifically) cost real time and energy that could have been used to show up for yourself or someone else. Think about how many times you’ve told yourself you’re going to do something that will make you feel good—take a shower, email a friend, make dinner, go to bed—and have spent that time doing something far less valuable on your phone instead.

  That isn’t to say that mindless scrolling is always bad; sometimes, self-care looks like shutting your brain off for a little while. This is why it’s helpful to get really clear on exactly how and why you’re using your apps—so you can then decide if they should be a priority or not. It’s also worth exploring if you’re using the app for your core purpose most of the time or if you’re starting out with good intentions (say, connecting with your long-distance siblings) but quickly devolving into something that isn’t so good (looking at your high school frenemy’s baby photos and talking shit about them to your other friends).

  To unpack this more, start by making a list of the social apps you use the most. Think: Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, Snapchat, TikTok, YouTube, and
whatever app hasn’t been invented yet but will be our latest obsession by the time this book goes to press. (By the way, I’m going to cover messaging—texting, Facebook Messenger, WhatsApp, Slack, Google Hangouts, etc.—later on, but you can definitely include messaging apps in the following exercises if you want to!)

  Go through each app on your list and write down the core reasons you are using each one. It might be things like . . .

  to see what my friends have been up to

  to connect with people like me

  to get creative inspiration

  to catch up on important news

  to find new, interesting things to read.

  Once you’ve done that, identify any ways in which your current app usage isn’t helping achieve that goal and/or is bringing about other negative consequences in your life. Then brainstorm other ways you might fill that same need, but via a more direct (read: app-free) route. Even if the alternatives seem like they might be impossible, write them down anyway. So, your list might look something like this . . .

  Facebook

  Core reason I use this app: To see what my friends have been up to

  Problem: The people whose updates I actually care about are getting lost in all the noise.

  Alternatives: I could call my close friends, email them, or video chat with them regularly. I could also unfriend and unfollow about 90 percent of the people whose posts I’m currently seeing.

  Instagram

  Core reason I use this app: To get creative inspiration

  Problem: I’m distracted by Stories, memes, influencer #sponcon, and DMs with pals, and I’m spending more time consuming inspiration (and garbage) than I am actually producing anything.

  Alternatives: I could seek out creative inspiration in the real world—going to museums, reading books, attending talks, etc.—and set aside phone-free time each week to actually produce something.