Dear Kiki,

I’m having a hard time prioritizing others at this stage in my life and I’m not sure whether it’s OK to keep centralizing my own needs, or if I’m being unreasonable by doing just that. By default, I no longer make future plans outside regular obligations such as work and home. When friends and family reach out to spend time together, I almost become prickly. I feel selfish and I know I could be setting myself up for a lonely life if I don’t strike a balance. I worry that some day, I’ll reap what I have sowed and find myself without the social and family network I once enjoyed. Even my therapist has said something to the effect of “well, everyone’s busy” as if I’m asserting that my time and peace matter more than others. Really, I’m just learning to say “no” after a lifetime of saying “yes.” How do I make sure my loved ones know I care, even though I need a lot of space to function for the indefinite and possibly long-term future?

Thanks for your advice,

Leave Me Alone!

Dear Leave Me Alone,

Ah yes, the age-old dilemma: Which came first, the chicken of equanimity or the egg of solitude? How do we move forward when we’re waffling back and forth between our obligations to others and our own well-being? Where is the line between healthy boundaries and dangerous isolation?

These are the sort of questions, L.M.A., that you very clearly do not have time to wrestle with!

So, don’t.

Life feels like it’s stretching out like a vast path in front of you, L.M.A. But in order to make it through to the end, we need to survive each moment along the way. And the fact is that each moment we live is its own tiny crisis. At any instant, we could cease to be. Every breath we take is a choice we make, etcetera etcetera. And the reason that’s a good thing is because we all know what to do in a crisis, right? A quick search of the section of the brain labeled “Hackneyed Adages that Prove Annoyingly Useful” reveals the following:

Put your own mask on first.

L.M.A., it’s obvious that you care deeply about the community you’ve built around you. That means you owe them the very best of yourself. And you can’t be your best self if you don’t centralize your own needs. When you continue trying to give when you’re empty, your worst self is likely to emerge. That road is paved with the hurtful things you never meant to say, the half-assed apologies you never wanted to have to make, the promises you fully intended to keep but didn’t—in short, all the things that can end up burning bridges that might otherwise just need some shoring up.

It’s scary, I know. It can feel selfish, solipsistic. But, L.M.A., it only feels that way because we are each our own biggest critic. You, L.M.A., are your own biggest critic. Know how I know? Because I don’t think that your therapist believes you to be “asserting that [your] time and peace matter more than others.” I’d bet that “well, everyone’s busy” was intended not as a condemnation, but as a reminder that the people around you are liable to be more forgiving than you expect, because they all know quite well how it feels to be torn in this way. Your brain just interpreted the phrase through the filter of your own anxiety.

Of course it’s also true that not all of your relationships will survive a fallow season. But that’s true of any season. Some relationships wouldn’t survive even under the most tender and attentive care. That sucks, and it can be hard to accept. But what’s most important is that you survive, L.M.A. — and that you survive with your capacity to nurture relationships (both old and new) still intact.

So how do you make sure your loved ones know you care? Well, first of all, you tell them. Send them this column if it helps. Make your needs explicit. Secondly, you tell your guilt to gtfo. Folks will sense that you’re feeling prickly at their invitations, and that is what will erode the relationship, not the mere denial of your company. Stick to specifics: say, “Why don’t you try me again in September?” or “Is it OK if I reach out when my schedule clears up?”

Third, remember the little opportunities to show you care. Send them memes that make you think of them. Mail out a trinket or souvenir. Small things done with sincerity can have a great impact.  

xoxo, Kiki

Questions about love, sex or relationships can be submitted to dearkiki@littlevillagemag.com, or anonymously using this form. Questions may be edited for clarity and length, and may appear either in print or online.

This article was originally published in Little Village’s July 2025 issue.