Today I received an email from a friend asking for a catch-up call, and I almost fell back into what I normally do: agreeing to hop on a call while my whole body is already fighting for a No. It needed rest.
Around 15 years ago, on a rainy day in Saigon, I stayed inside the rented room I shared with my best friend in Vietnam and texted her, “When you go back home, can you buy me some sweet soup please?”
I still remember how much I was looking forward to it. The soft beans, the creamy coconut milk, the nice fragrance of pandan leaves. It was like heaven, especially because I was so hungry. I hadn’t gone out at all that day. It was just one of those things college students did, I guess. Locking themselves in a room and doing nothing.
My best friend came back and… she didn’t get me the sweet soup.
I was disappointed, of course, but I got even more upset when she said she had gone to the market and just hadn’t had time to get it for me. I thought she was being selfish and didn’t care about me at all. In my mind, it wouldn’t have taken much time or effort to grab it, and I knew I would definitely try to do the same for her if she asked me.
But I didn’t realize that I was expecting her to act like someone else—like me. And I have to admit, being hungry probably made everything feel worse :))))
That event was very small. Very, very small. But somehow, it managed to stay in my head until today, when I said “No” and hit send. When that memory came back to me, I realized something: I never asked what happened to my friend that day, if she had had a good day, if she was tired, overwhelmed, or just wanted to go home. But yeah, who would expect a 20-year-old to be that thoughtful right? Hahaha so… dear myself, I forgive you.
Now reflecting on this experience, why did I use the sweet soup as the measurement of care?
Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she really didn’t have time. Maybe it was just like that.
Lately, things have been hard for me. Still manageable, but difficult. Many things happened that changed the way I see the world. Not in a negative way, but in a more truthful way. I started to see people more clearly. Again, not in a way like, “I don’t believe in humanity anymore,” or “The world is so beautiful.” More like, “This is what happened. See it as it is.”
And work. I am grateful that I still have a job I like, and work that I find meaningful every day. Still, that doesn’t cancel the fact that the slow economy does make me feel negative sometimes.
It’s like: I like my job, but I don’t know what will happen. The last time I had this feeling was when COVID started. So yes, personal life and professional life have both been a bit heavy lately. On top of that, stocks are not doing well, some unexpected bills have arrived in my letterbox (well, not really unexpected, I just used more warm water and heating last year so it is kinda expected but yeah…still a bit unexpected – btw, can we save some heat right now for winter???). So yes, I understand this is normal, but when everything happens at once, it is just tiring.
That’s why, when I received that email from a friend asking for a catch-up call, I tried to identify one thing first: is this urgent? If not, I would say no.
But the funny thing is, nowadays, nothing is really urgent and everything is urgent. The need to talk, to stay connected, is still there. So even when saying No makes sense, it can still create that “failed to get the sweet soup” feeling, right?
I can’t remember how many times I have heard stories where people felt unheard, unseen, or misunderstood because someone they loved couldn’t be there for them.
I get it. I had that also.
And still, that doesn’t mean we have to say yes when our body is saying no. There are many different ways to care. You don’t have to hop on a call if what you really need is to rest or have a quiet evening. You don’t have to go to that gathering if all you need is a nice afternoon nap that you haven’t had for so long. You can still stay connected through messages, emails, or whatever form that doesn’t require you to talk or sit in front of a computer. You can send a warm message regularly to the people you care about without attending every gathering.
There are so many other alternatives.
You can say no to recharge yourself. And you can choose to say it clearly, not rudely, and not in a way that hurts people. That’s what I did today.
I said no, but I didn’t disappear. I replied still. I explained a little. I left the door open for another time. And maybe that is something I wish I had understood 15 years ago. Maybe care is not always sweet soup.
Sometimes care is getting the sweet soup.
Sometimes care is saying, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get it today.”
Sometimes care is not assuming the worst when someone fails to show up in the exact way we expected.
And sometimes care is saying no before we become too tired to say yes sincerely.
So now, I am having this quiet evening to write down these thoughts, so tomorrow it might feel a little lighter. And yes, this is life. There are days like these, and the best we can do is solve one problem at a time.