I arrived at the teahouse when the clock showed 11:00 a.m. It was a beautiful Sunday morning with white fluffy clouds dotted the azure blue sky, and the sun beamed beatifically, casting a golden glow upon the earth. Tuan Anh was already there, in the corner, just finished his online lecture. He greeted me with a cheerful smile, showing no signs of exhaustion. "Thank God, he still had enough energy to talk to me!" - I relieved. Given his packed schedule, I was so grateful for him making time for this conversation.
Tuan Anh was tall, fit, and charming. His dimples appeared when he smiled or pronounced words starting with the letter "c." Though we used to volunteer together in 2019 for Tohe Fun - an art playground for children with special needs (autism spectrum disorder, disabilities, or difficult circumstances, etc.), I had never been in direct contact with him because we were in different teams. Nevertheless, I could say that Tuan Anh was one of the most beloved volunteers in our program, well-known for his great sense of humor, seemingly never-ending positive energy, creativity, and dedication in working with kids. I've put him on my to-meet list long ago, but it was not until recently when one mutual friend of ours casually mentioned him in a Facebook post that brought back to my mind the idea of inviting him for a coffee chat. I texted him the next minute, and we set up a meeting.
I smiled back at him and said hello. We sat down, and he got the conversation rolling.
- I am the only child in my family. My parents were not very young when I was born, so it's easy to imagine how focused and protected they were towards me. It's not very comfortable, but it's also not all that bad. Let's start with the advantages, which are often overlooked. Being an only child has many perks, including the fact that I rarely experience loneliness, which is one of my biggest fears. Isn't it surprising? People frequently articulate that only children are lonely, but this is not my case. Plus, I'd like to cherish my close-knit bond with my parents and enjoy their attention for as long as possible. Just imagine coming home after a weary day, opening the door to find nothing, and no one but pitch darkness..., only the thought of that is enough to freak me out. About the negative side, well... When I was small, there was no such thing as privacy in my parents' dictionary. They used to check my phone and enter my room whenever they felt like it. They had also tried relentlessly to control where I went, who I met, and what I did. Now that I've grown up, my mom and dad finally respect my privacy and give me the space I need, except for one thing - the curfew time. I'm turning 25 and still have to head home before 10 p.m., can you believe that?
In my teens, I often lived up to my parents' expectations and adhered to social norms. Study hard, get good grades, be kind, be nice and be obedient, you name it. At that time, I routinely sacrificed my happiness so that those around me could have theirs. I was also overly solicitous of the feelings of my parents and friends. I felt safe and at ease doing that, but the joy of pleasing people often came hand-in-hand with the exhaustion. Now I've entered the adult world, that way of behaving persists and takes a toll on me.
- Wait, I think you would be one of the most jubilant people on earth, as every time I see you, you're either laughing, joking, or giggling. Is your positive vibe nature or nurture?
- Uhm, it can be both. I think I'm more of an extrovert than an introvert as I like to spend time with others rather than being on my own. I handle stress by being with my loved ones, dealing with difficulty by talking things over with my friends, and going to random social events to cure my boredom. I was also a genuinely happy child when I was small, so, as you said, it's partly nature of me to be joyous. However, since I'm craving social interaction, I care so much about what I should do and how I should express myself to gain social approval. Usually, I have no trouble devoting my energy to amuse others without being emotionally exhausted. However, there were moments I got swamped by the urge to go above and beyond to make others happy when my gut was begging: "Stop talking here and there and go home! You're in desperate need of a long rest". Heck, I never listened to it. As you would anticipate, I was shattered in the aftermath, and it took me a few days to be fully recharged. In short, I can be happy many times, but not all-the-time. Therefore, the ever-radiant vibe you associate me with is partly nurtured. In other words, it's the result of diligent practice and constant efforts.
Oh my god, I've been there many times, even right now. Two months ago, I got my so-called "dream job," but I'm feeling so drained already. Don't get me wrong! I still love my work as much as I did on day one. The thing is: I've left the first impression on my colleagues (not on purpose) as a dynamic, uplifting young lady who can talk and entertain anyone. That is not entirely a false perception of me, but it's not my identity, either. Now, I'm struggling to maintain that identity as I sense the expectation of others towards me. What should I do?
- What should we do? - I asked Tuan Anh.
- Set your boundaries and stick to them. They are your ways of letting other people know how far they can go with you regarding emotional support or physical help. I've learned that knowing your boundaries is essential for healthy interpersonal relationships and personal development. Of course, they don't have to be rigid; you can flex or move them based on different circumstances. As long as you keep your boundaries, you can carry out your work, focus on your projects, and put your energy into what matters to you".
- Wow. So you knew all of this, did you reach the so-called "inner peace"?
- No, far from it. Knowing it and actually practicing it are different stories. Getting rid of my people-pleaser tendency is not something that can be done overnight. I'm still working on it.
Setting boundaries sounds scary for me, to be honest. I'm not used to seeing disappointment, especially from ones who are important to me. But looking back, maybe those disappointments (if any) can be less depressing than all the drain in social situations when I feel like I'm performing or when I over-commit to obligations and under-commit to activities that truly bring me joy.
"It's time to let people know your limits!" - I can hear the universe said to me when letting me meet Tuan Anh at this stage of my life, on that glorious sunny day of November.
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