Why Giving Up is Great

The end of my DIY era

The best thing I’ve done this year is what I didn’t.

I have found my limit and for the first time in maybe my whole life, I am respecting it.

For any new readers of this newsletter, last year was a BIG year.

While still trying to settle in after moving from Spain to Scotland, my husband and I got engaged (and then married four months later!), bought a flat, began a gut renovation of said flat, supported each other through a very close family member’s cancer journey, and then in case that wasn’t enough on, I decided to leave my full-time job to start a talent agency, all while writing 18 freelance articles.

I’m tired remembering it.

The year was extraordinary, tremendous, and without a doubt, eye-wateringly exhausting. I don’t think I could do it again.

I’d like to say that this year is going to be more calm, but I don’t think it will be.

So I must do it differently.

Last year, I had no spare resource. I had left myself no cushion. And as I look ahead to the year that is coming, on the cusp of a huge life transition, I know it’s going to take a lot of energy.

At the beginning of the year, I grabbed coffee with my friend Foxey, who is an extraordinary astrologist. I begged her to tell me when my Saturn Return was going to happen so then I would know what this year was going to require. (Yes, I know she’s not a fortune teller).

But I was looking for something tangible to grab onto. So when she said that she thinks May is going to be an important month, I bolted upright.

“May!” I exclaimed. Finally I had a deadline to work backwards from. Even if it was self-imposed.

Hearing “May” was the permission slip I needed to dramatically reprioritize how I was spending my time. By May 1st, I needed to have spare energy to take on whatever the rest of the year would hold.

With May in mind, I leapt into action. I needed to claw all my energy back. That meant looking at what was taking up the most space, saying no to several things I could no longer do, and stopping doing free work for other people.

Anything that wasn’t mission critical needed to end.

And then I had to look at my home.

One of the biggest time vampires of the past year has been the DIY journey of renovating our flat. I cannot even begin to quantify the many hours I’ve poured into that lovely project and I have loved every second of it (even the wallpaper stripping).

But things have changed. I need every ounce of brain power back that I previously gave to finding unlacquered brass door knobs.

That means, I’m raising my hand for help. As I write this, we have our lovely handyman putting up the box moulding I had vowed to learn how to do.

All of those exciting projects that I intended to do, I handed over. A year ago, there was space for them. And now there isn’t. And that’s okay!

At times like these, I call upon the saying: You can do it all, but not all at once.

That too, is a permission slip.

You can probably renovate your apartment, host a million events, build a freelance writing career, build a talent agency, prepare for a huge life transition, be a good friend, be a good daughter, be a good wife—but not at the same time.

I like to think of my life in seasons.

And when the season changes, I need to adapt to what it requires. I forgive myself for the things I wanted to do, but couldn’t. For the people I will likely disappoint.

I say: That was who I was, but that is not who I am now. I could do that then and now I can’t.

It has been months now since that coffee with Foxey and I’ve cleared my plate dramatically. The process of doing so has showed me how great it is to have extra space. To not be totally booked to the brim and running around ragged.

With spare capacity, I have opened myself up to spontaneity. I can say yes to things as they arise and wholeheartedly enjoy them. (Tomorrow I’m going to Milan for Salone, a long-time dream of mine!)

Whatever May brings, I’m grateful for these past months where my time has been reprioritized.

So that’s all to say, it’s okay to ask for help. It’s okay to change your mind.

Sometimes the best thing you do is what you don’t.