Dear Eric: My husband and I are senior citizens in a large, blended family. Back when we were younger, and both gainfully employed, we paid for everything any time our blended family got together. Over the years, the family grew larger numerically.
The fact that we’re retired seems to make no difference in the expectation. Any time the group gathers at a restaurant, an outing, or even shopping we end up paying for everything.
Our adult children range in age from the late 30’s to the 50’s. Most are parents themselves, and some are even grandparents.
We realize we’re mostly to blame for this pattern. We keep thinking someone will offer to at least pay for their own family. So far that hasn’t happened. The fact that it’s “expected” and taken for granted, has limited our desire to get together with them as a group.
Sometimes, since they assume we’re paying, they even invite others to join the group. We enjoy our time with them until we’re handed the bill. No one even offers to leave the tip.
How, after 35 years, do we break this expectation?
– Tired of Footing the Bill
Dear Bill: If it’s been going on for 35 years, it’s possible that your adult children think you want to always pay.
Yes, I can’t imagine why none of your children has pulled out a card once over the last 35 years, particularly in adulthood. It’s good manners. But, since they haven’t, you should let them know that you want them to.
While, in a perfect world, our loved ones would always know us well enough to anticipate our needs, sometimes we have to tell them. Something as simple as “we’d love to go out to dinner, but it would be wonderful if someone else can pay,” might suffice. If they all decline and it’s not because of financial constraints, you have a decision to make. You can keep footing the bill for the sake of togetherness or you can find free ways to spend time as a family.
Dear Eric: I have a sister “Beth” who has treatment-resistant depression. I have another sister “Jo” who is physically and mentally healthy and had a really bad year. Jo typically hosts family events.
A few weeks ago, Jo texted our group chat that she doesn’t have the spoons to host this year. I volunteered to do Thanksgiving, and our brother made reservations for Christmas.
Beth took Jo to task for using “spoons” when she is not chronically or mentally ill. Beth told us that spoon theory belongs to mentally or chronically ill people the same way marginalized groups take back a former slur.
Jo revised her comment to say she doesn’t have the bandwidth to host this year. Beth said, “see, now that you know better you can do better.” Even if Beth is right about this her tone and phrasing really kicked Jo while she was down.
I would like to talk to Beth about this. Before I do that, was she right in the first place? If she was, how do I explain to her that Jo isn’t depressed, but she had a pile of difficulties all the same?
– Jumping on the Bandwidth
Dear Bandwidth: It saddens me that Beth was presented with an opportunity to express empathy and instead chose reprimand. That’s not an effective way to educate. “Spoon theory” is a term coined by Christine Miserandino in a 2003 blog post as a way to explain what it was like to have limited mental, physical or emotional energy for the day’s tasks as a person living with lupus.
In the years since, it has been adopted by many people living with other chronic illnesses, disabilities or health challenges, the effects of which may be invisible to those not living with them. The comparison to a reclaimed slur, by the way, is inaccurate and needlessly incendiary.
All that being said, let’s say that the sharpness of Beth’s response was her pain talking, or perhaps the justified anguish of not always having her struggle acknowledged in the way that Jo’s was being acknowledged.
Miserandino’s blog is called ButYouDontLookSick.com. The name is a good reminder that we never know what another person is struggling with. Jo’s hard year doesn’t trump Beth’s challenges, but empathy is not a finite resource. If Beth didn’t have it in her to express compassion for Jo, she could have closed the chat and come back to it at a time when she did.
When you talk to Beth, start with compassion. Ask her if there are areas where she’s not feeling seen and supported. Ask how you can help or listen. And then remind her that Jo is also navigating her own challenges. Encourage an apology, or at the least a second draft of the conversation.
(Send questions to R. Eric Thomas at eric@askingeric.com or P.O. Box 22474, Philadelphia, PA 19110. Follow him on Instagram and sign up for his weekly newsletter at rericthomas.com.)
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