Commitment issues
To be static in our commitments is to be inauthentic.
Full transparency: I have so much writing in my drafts and never feel like any of it is good enough to send. So the following is me practicing being OK with putting myself out there imperfectly—challenging myself to publish, even when it’s not polished.
Recently I’ve been thinking about commitment. More specifically, the unintentional commitments I’ve made: the things I am committed to by evidence of my actions but not my heart.
My job is one such commitment. I’ve been working here for six years. I never meant to be here this long—in fact I’ve tried to leave many times. But the comfort of something I know, the stability of a paycheck and health insurance, has kept me here. It appears I am actually committed to this job, despite having no internal attachment to it.
I look at the word “commit” and I can’t help but fixate on the “co-”. Does this mean that a commitment always involves another party? That a commitment always brings in another entity to which we are beholden, or accountable to? And if so, how does this change the way we choose and align with what we commit to? It feels like a good reminder that, even in commitments to ourselves, our followthrough or lack thereof will eventually bump into someone else.
Because, even though commitment starts as an intention, what gives it meaning and life and breath is action. And so I wonder—what do my actions tell me about what I am committed to?
Commitment is a word that scares me in some contexts and makes me feel safe in others. I’ve never had commitment issues when it comes to romantic relationships. For most of my life I’ve believed that being partnered would give me security, a belief I have realized is inherited (and, oh yeah, conditioned) and really isn’t true. When I think about the most turbulent times of my life, they’ve always been because of a relationship. And yet, I always arrive ready to commit.
Commitment. Digital collage. Aug. 2023
When I think about commitment around work, it grates. I don’t want to be beholden to people’s expectations of me. I’m 10 months postpartum and I feel vulnerable. I feel raw and new, like when I gave birth I also shed my hermit crab shell, and I’m searching for a new one that fits, that feels comfortable, that feels like it could be my new home. Because I am moving through the world in this peeled back way, and because I am so utterly responsible for keeping a baby human alive, I don’t want anyone else to need me. I don’t want to be committed—being committed to my baby is quite enough.
I want to be committed to my friends, but my actions appear to speak otherwise. It’s hard to maintain friendships as a working new mom. Suddenly I am terrible at replying to texts because my short-term memory is shit. It’s difficult to find time to connect irl sans baby. It’s hard to muster the energy for socializing after months of sleep deprivation. But I’m trying to build these muscles back, wading slowly into what it means to be committed to friendship, something I don’t think I’ve appreciated enough or worked hard enough for—even though committing to friendship is also a commitment to myself.
I think about the many ways I abandoned myself in the past—gave my power away, shrank, neglected myself, put others’ value and worth over my own. I was committed to self-abandonment. At the time I didn’t think of it this way, but I was. Thankfully, that has changed. I have to be committed to showing up for myself now—with movement, embodiment, mental stimulation, emotional release, boundaries, asking for help, challenging myself, being kind to myself, understanding my needs and acting to get them met. This is how I commit to myself.
I don’t believe commitment is a stone. I believe in changing my mind, in re-evaluating whether or not a commitment makes sense or is aligned with my values. I try to be impeccable with my word but life is messy, my brain is messy. I don’t like to be flaky. But I think it’s okay to be fluid. To be static in our commitments is to be inauthentic. We have the right to ask, does this still work for me? Is this still aligned with my values and integrity?
And again, I feel an obligation to ask: What do my actions tell me about what I am committed to? Finding these misalignments remind me that I have choice—that the things that feel like automation are really opportunities for me to choose differently. As Paul Coelho wrote of freedom and commitment in The Zahir, “Freedom is not the absence of commitments, but the ability to choose—and commit myself to—what is best for me.”
As always, I never promise to have the answers, but I sure do love having you along while I figure it out.
Ayu
Do you have answers?
What are you committed to right now? How do your commitments impact the way you feel about yourself? I would love to hear from you! Respond to this email or leave a comment <3
TMI is created on the traditional land of the Duwamish People, past and present. I honor with gratitude the land itself and the Duwamish Tribe.
Ayu ---- this is fabulous ==== the written words are powerful and just flow. Very fluid and meaningful. This deserves a wider audience.