I was notorious for cancelling plans at the last minute. Long enough that it became a joke, then a known trait, then something people factored in before inviting me places. My excuses ranged from impressively detailed to barely credible. Eventually, the cancelled plans weren’t the problem. Pretending I wasn’t going to be there was impacting my friendships.
Developing a frontal lobe in this very specific and uncinematic way meant getting more honest and saying ‘no’ when the idea of the coffee catch-up is first mentioned. It didn’t make me more asocial, as it turned out. If anything, it made me more reliable when I did say yes. People knew what they were getting, and so did I. But I noticed it had started happening again.
Last week, I cancelled plans after I had already showered, which was where my mind started to put the pieces together. Showering meant I believed in the evening. I thought I had the stamina for conversation, listening, laughing and debriefing. I even put on earrings, which in my personal system is a sign of commitment. Then I sat down on the bed ‘for a second’, opened my phone and felt a very clear internal ‘no’ settle in. That same feeling that if I left the house now, I would resent everyone involved, myself the most.
I typed out a message that started with ‘I’m so sorry’ and deleted it. Then I typed another one explaining how busy the week had been. I really did want to come; this isn’t a reflection of my feelings about the friendship. I deleted that too. What I finally sent was shorter and more honest: ‘I’m exhausted by life, can we reschedule?’
The reply came back almost immediately. ‘All good. We’ll do it another time, I wasn’t feeling it either.’ There’s something to be said for a friendship where ‘I can’t make it’ is met with mutual relief rather than a grudge.
A few years ago, this would have been considered a deal-breaker. For some people, it still is. Cancelling plans with friends or family carried a mild moral weight. It implied you weren’t organised enough, enthusiastic enough or committed enough to maintaining the relationship. You showed up because you said you would, even when you were tired or overstimulated or secretly counting the minutes until you could leave. Absence required a reason that sounded serious enough to excuse it.
Calendars now fill faster than they clear. Phones stay active well past any reasonable boundary with an expectation that you will be available to your job, your friends, your family and yourself, often at the same time. Even plans made for pleasure start to feel scheduled. An evening out asks for attention, conversation and a willingness to be present, and sometimes that version of you has already been used up earlier in the day.
The messages I used to send, I now receive from the other side. Cancelling has stopped reading as a personal failing and started to look like a shared administrative adjustment to life. We’re all cancelling with the same honesty.
Disclaimer : This story is auto aggregated by a computer programme and has not been created or edited by DOWNTHENEWS. Publisher: vogue.in
