I Gave Up the Role of Family Manager

Now: I’m like “forget it.” If no one steps up, we just won’t get together. It took a while, but someone else eventually planned a family event. It felt good to simply show up and enjoy myself.

The human alarm clock

Then: People relied on me to remind them to schedule appointments, take medications, all kinds of stuff. It was a hassle, but I worried something bad would happen if I didn’t stay involved.

Now: I only worry about my stuff. Grown people are responsible for their own actions (or inactions).

The everything consultant

Then: Some folks constantly came to me with questions they should ask their doctor, their boss, their kid’s teacher, or their spouse. Or, I was the go-to person for their “I need to vent” calls or texts. I’d stop whatever I was doing to explain, give advice, Google or listen.

Now: I’m still there for my people, but I’ve put limits on it. I don’t answer those calls or texts when I’m working or don’t have the mental energy for it. My go-to lines now are “I don’t know” or “You’re probably better off asking …” It’s not to be mean, but I’m protecting my time and peace of mind.

The middleman

Then: I somehow got dragged into other people’s mess. Family members expected me to pass along messages because they refused to speak to each other. And I had other relatives ringing my line asking me to “talk some sense” into the fighting folks. Usually, someone (or everyone) got mad at me.

Now: I’m no longer the go-between or trying to fix anyone’s issues. If it doesn’t involve me, it doesn’t involve me.

The banker

Then: Way too many people turned to me for financial help. Oftentimes, I was the first resort, not the last. I sometimes gave when I didn’t really have it to spare. My own finances suffered.

Now: The bank is closed. Turning down the requests has helped me get my money situation back on track.

I clocked out and gained freedom

Let me tell you, my life feels much lighter since I quietly ghosted the family manager gig. I have more time and energy for myself and the things I actually want to do. Other people’s problems aren’t weighing me down. My brain no longer feels like it’s in overdrive. I can finally breathe.

I admit, sometimes I almost slip up and jump in, remind or fix. But I catch myself.

Even though I’m no longer the family manager, it doesn’t mean I don’t love my family. They’re still my people, and I ride hard for them always. It’s only now that I’ve walked away from the position that I’m finally able to pour more into myself, tending to my own needs, doing what brings me joy, and indulging a little (or a lot).

If you’re a family manager and ready to quit:

• Think through your boundaries first. “Boundaries are best when we’re able to communicate them effectively,” says Jamila Jones, a licensed clinical professional counselor, owner of Reclaiming Minds Therapy and Wellness and author of Healing Through Boundaries: 100-Day Reflective Guide for Personal Growth. She recommends thinking about your wants, needs and what you’re willing (and not willing) to keep doing in the family role.
• Start small. You don’t have to quit everything immediately or at once. Or make a big announcement. I just quietly stopped doing what I was tired of doing.
• Say no. Yes, it’s hard, especially with some relatives. But it’s necessary. Jones says to remember “that you can deliver your boundaries, your yeses, your nos with care and consideration.”
• Expect pushback. Certain family members caught attitudes or tried to guilt-trip me into continuing to do what I’d always done. But I stuck with my decision. As Jones puts it, “Our boundaries don’t need family buy-in to be valid.”
• Get someone else to do it.  “Sometimes when we take that step back, it allows people to better support themselves,” Jones says. She adds that if that’s not possible, it may lead others to step up and do their part.
• Feeling guilty is normal. But you’re not being selfish or abandoning your family. “Stepping back is not an act of neglect to others, but an act of healing for ourselves,” says Jones. “You don’t have to be the glue that holds everything together.”