Dear Guilty Woman...

I'm recovering from this same illness myself

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Dear guilty woman,

If you’re a woman who can’t relax without feeling guilty, welcome. I’m recovering from the same illness myself. But a few days ago, with a glass of white wine in hand (yes, it came out of a bag), I sat — still — and watched Mexico and England play in the World Cup.

In sitting for those few hours, I experienced a plethora of emotions. First came the guilt. I’m sure you’re familiar with that emotion. We hosted company over the weekend so dinner for a crowd was on my to-do list. I fought the urge to get up and chop more vegetables, stir the rice, check the simmering beef, and wipe off the kitchen counters again. Stop it, Shaye.

“The meal is fine. Let it be.” I said to myself.

I sipped my wine, curled up in the sweatpants that I’d changed into from my wet swimsuit, and felt cozy. I convinced myself to stay put and enjoy the game.

And then I did just that. I sat still and enjoyed the soccer game.

Did you know I liked soccer? I didn’t either. Despite the fact that Stuart has always been a soccer fan, sports haven’t really made it into the permanent family lexicon. But I’ve found the World Cup games to be exciting, entertaining, a point of global conversation, and a wonderful way to set aside the worries and stresses of my own mind. A small break from the grind. Something I’m not responsible for. Even more, a point of pleasure.

What other enjoyments am I depriving myself of by not being willing to actually relax freely?

Do I actually have plenty of joy? Opportunity? Pleasure? Moments to relax? … and in my hustle, just miss them entirely?

I immediately think of when I want to feel most relaxed, cozy in bed, washed of the dirt from the day and preparing for sleep for the hours ahead. Since no one expects me to be mopping floors at midnight, I try to let myself relax too. On bad days, guilt from the day sneaks in — surely I could’ve fit in another load of laundry or a bit of extra bookkeeping. But I push such thoughts aside because I’m not a machine, nor do I want to be. But I am a wife. And time with my husband, our time together in bed, is something I value very much. If I were to carry my guilt to bed, if I were to resist the relaxation and intimacy of time together, what a great enjoyment we would both be deprived of. “Sorry, honey, I’m not in the mood. I didn’t get the refrigerator cleaned out today like I wanted and now I feel like I’m behind already on tomorrow’s to-do list.” Gross. No, thank you.

I suppose, over the years, I’ve grown to see the value of intimate time together in such a significant way, that the guilt I feel for relaxing at this time of day holds no bearing.

Oh, if it could be so all throughout the day! Maybe it can?