How to say no (for real this time)

$1,000 down, $17,000 to go.

It’s been a little more than a year since I recruited my friends to help bring a comedy sketch I wrote about a fake pill that aids in the daunting experience of turning down an invitation, to life.

It’s been a little less than a month since I realized just how rooted-in-truth that “comedic” endeavor was.

Making the decision to cut out restaurants in July was — if not easy — at least obvious, just from looking at the numbers (nearly $1,800 spent between April and June, lest I forget).

But then, panic.

Not because I can’t last a month without overpaying for a not-heavily-poured-enough wine by the glass, but because I haven’t gone a month without saying yes to basically every invitation that has been graciously lobbed my way in, I don’t know? Ever?

It quickly dawned on me that in order to not go to any restaurants… I would have to completely walk back a historical down-for-whatever, of-course-i’ll-be-there attitude. And that was scary.

The thought of saying no (for a reason or for no reason!) and risking disappointing someone? Unbearable. What if I hurt their feelings? What if they get mad at me? What if declining the invitation or canceling the dinner makes them realize they don’t even know why they’re friends with me in the first place?!!? And then they leave???

In completing my homework for the second week of the course I’m taking (this week was all about history with money — our family’s and our own) I realized that I’ve paid a mighty high price ($18,000), at least in part, as a trauma response: a compulsive need to prevent risking feeling abandoned.

I braced myself for backlash and drafted a few preemptive, over-explained texts. “So.. I’ve finally realized I need to be on a budget! That means I have to be really conscious for the foreseeable future. I know we have plans on (INSERT DATE HERE) and I’d love to go for a walk or have a picnic or a dinner at home instead. If not, no worries! I love you! Please love me!”

Logic states that our friends are not our friends because of our willingness to spend money with them. That no friend would be angry to be on the receiving end on a text like the ones I sent. A friendship’s fate is not determined by one declined dinner, logic would remind me. But emotions make things feel more black and white. More final. I was one way. Now I’m trying to be another way. Will my friends still like me this way? Or am I going to ruin everything forever?

Truthfully I’m not sure this dilemma will resonate with everyone (or anyone who is not a people pleaser, which, teach me your ways), but I know it will with some. And for those people, let me tell you: in the time since I started talking honestly about money with my friends (and, uh, the internet), all theories I had about how people might react have been wholly dispelled. Instead there are now overwhelming feelings of sheer gratitude — not only for all the things I already have but all the people in my life (none of whom have, thus far, ended our friendship over a canceled reservation), who make it so special and sweet.

@realgirlprojectDay 17/31: is a DIY carwash worth it? (Yes & no). #debtfreejourney #debtfree #brooklyn #nyc #budgeting

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Gratitude this week also extended to the wildly intoxicated man at the Dead & Co show who announced to an entire line of people (that I was standing on just to keep my friend company, I swear) that he would be buying their drinks. Of course, that’s partially why I ended up drinking too much to drive home from Citi Field and had to go to Queens on Sunday to get my car. But still. Gratitude.

Thank you also to everyone who has reached out to talk about debt, share wisdom about debt, to offer kind words and, as the song goes, for being a friend. In the final stretch of no restaurant July I am feeling very full (hehe) of love.

Love,

Jamie AF