By 11:30, I was ready to go home.
I had liked him more than I expected to. He was better-looking than his photos. I liked his voice. He was smart and interesting, and the date had gone well.
He wanted me to stay.
He’d had around four Old Fashioneds by then. He became more physically affectionate as he drank, and when he kept pressing me to stay, it felt a bit weird. I had enjoyed the evening. I was also finished with it.
The next morning, when he wanted to come by and kiss me goodbye, I made up an excuse.
Mostly, I wanted to avoid another round of pressure. I also didn’t want the discomfort of disappointing him. I was still curious about him and hadn’t ruled out seeing him again.
I just didn’t want him to come over.
After being pressed to stay the night before, I might use an excuse again. I wanted the interaction to end, and I wasn’t particularly interested in giving him more to argue with.
But I recognize the other part of my decision, too.
I wanted to leave, and I wanted him to feel okay about my leaving.
I have spent a lot of my adult life being good at that second part. Understanding the other person’s position. Finding an adjustment. Making something work that might otherwise become difficult.
Being reasonable has served me. At work, I can figure out what needs doing even when nobody has made it clear who’s responsible. I can work with different personalities and keep things moving. That has helped me earn trust and influence. I value being someone people can depend on.
There are situations where insisting on exactly what I want would cost more than the preference is worth. Relationships matter. So does getting important work done. Sometimes accommodating someone is a choice I’m happy to make.
I want to know when I’ve chosen it.
Because I can begin adjusting before I’ve quite registered that there was a choice. I know how to find the version of what I want that creates the least amount of friction. By the time I say it, I may already have done most of the compromising.
The other person hears something workable. They don’t necessarily know what changed before they heard it.
I used to leave difficult conversations relieved that no one was upset with me. It took years to notice how often I was the one leaving upset.
There was a reward in getting through the conversation. The tension was over. No one was angry. I could stop wondering how it was going to go.
My own unhappiness didn’t always seem to carry the same urgency.
If someone else was disappointed, there was something to respond to. I could explain, reassure, offer another possibility. If I was disappointed, I could leave with it. The conversation could still appear to have gone well.
I was counting their relief more readily than my own discomfort.
But I don’t want the fact that I can absorb something to settle whether I should.
And I’m beginning to question how quickly another person’s disappointment becomes a task. Have I been unclear? Could I explain it better? Is there something else I could offer?
Sometimes there is. Sometimes I’m still trying to find an answer that lets me have a preference without anyone having an uncomfortable response to it.
The excuse that morning was also meant to spare his feelings and leave open the possibility of seeing him again.
I wanted an awful lot from an excuse.
His pressure had bothered me. I didn’t know whether I wanted to see him again. I knew I didn’t want to see him that morning.
What I’m trying to notice now is what I do after I know what I want. Whether I’m choosing to accommodate someone because I want to, or starting to revise my answer because I don’t like how it feels to disappoint them.
I expect I’ll still explain myself. I’ll still compromise. There will be times when an excuse is the easiest way to end an interaction I’m finished having.
But someone can understand what I want and still wish I wanted something else. More explanation may not change that. Offering something I don’t want might make the moment easier and leave me with the discomfort later.
I know that arrangement.
At 11:30, I didn’t know whether I wanted another date. I knew I wanted this one to end.
I was ready to go home.
I’m trying to let that sentence end there.