Toast, Texts, and a Teachable Moment
A real-life look at guilt, boundaries, and letting go of what doesn’t belong to you
Thank you to the woman who told me at a recent Grit and Grace event that she “needed to let go of the guilt she felt for getting cancer.”
Thank you to my friends who regularly talk about the “mom guilt” for getting away for a weekend, for letting their kids spend too much time on technology, or—let’s be real—not making but dishing out prepared foods because they’re tired of cooking.
Thank you to my family for saying, “Mom, stop making us feel guilty.”
Guilt. I see it. I feel it when someone tries to hand it to me.
But for a long time, I couldn’t name it. It felt elusive. Can you define it?
I remember talking to two dear friends a few years ago and admitting: I was raised on guilt, and I knew I was using it in my parenting—but I couldn’t stop because I didn’t understand what it was.
How do you stop something you can’t define?
They couldn’t define it either. So, I kept doing it.
Then I heard a definition that I had to gulp down (as a regular offender):
Guilt is feeling someone else’s feelings.
Simple. Clear. Now I get it.
It was easy to see how others put their feelings on me—and sometimes, how I put those feelings on myself. But the harder realization was this: I’ve put my feelings on my family.
Maybe you experience the other kind of guilt—the one that shows up when you act out of alignment with your values. You yell at a co-worker. You snap at the dog. You say something in the heat of the moment.
When we act out of our values, we feel guilty—but often that guilt is out of proportion to the wrongdoing.
Guilt in real life.
Yesterday, my daughter was making her new favorite breakfast—toast with peanut butter—and had the good fortune of being the first to open the jar. (Jif-opening is something I talk about as a tiny act we can be grateful for. I snapped a pic for you.)
As she dipped her knife into the smooth, untouched surface, she smiled and starting to spill the tea.
That Friday night, as I tucked her into bed, she had asked to go out on the boat with a few friends. Wanting to spend time with her—and maybe ease some “mom guilt” for being so busy—I said yes.
The day was perfect. One of those so-good-you-say-it-out-loud kind of days:
“This is amazing… What a perfect day. I don’t want it to end.”
She even called her friend’s mom to ask if they could stay out longer.
These kinds of days don’t happen often. But when they do, you savor them. You remember them—especially in a cold, gray Maryland February.
While we were out, some uninvited friends messaged my daughter:
“When will you be back?”
“I know you’re on the boat.”
Even a few of the moms texted me.
This is to be expected in a community like mine. It’s not easy to navigate, but we try.
We tell ourselves—and our kids—you can’t invite everyone, and sometimes you won’t be invited.
That night, my daughter went to a graduation party and ran into one of the moms of the uninvited kids. The mom said,
“We missed you out on the boat today.”
Yikes.
Did that mom just put her own feelings about her daughter being excluded onto my 11-year-old?
Yes. She did.
My daughter didn’t know what to say. Honestly, I wouldn’t have either—if I hadn’t been reflecting on this exact topic for this article.
But lucky for her (and maybe for you), here’s how I responded:
I asked:
“Did you do something wrong? Was it out of line with your values?”
“No.”
“Are you feeling someone else’s feelings?”
“Yes.”
“Then those feelings don’t belong to you. Can you give them back?”
This scenario is just one of many I could have chosen from the past year:
Parties. After-school gatherings. School pickups. Moments when we can’t include everyone and feel guilty about it.
Of course we feel guilt.
We were trained to believe that feeling other people’s feelings is our responsibility.
Overthinkers are especially good at this.
So much time spent replaying what we said or did:
“I should have said...”
“I should have done...”
There we are—shoulding on ourselves.
Guilt is an unwelcome but familiar visitor in our well-being.
When we carry other people’s negative emotions (it’s never the good ones), we’re silently saying, my health doesn’t matter as much as your comfort.
I’m here to remind you:
Your health matters.
Your boundaries matter.
Only you can protect them.
Next time you feel guilt rising up, ask yourself:
Did I do something out of alignment with my values?
→ If yes, make amends. Say: “Next time, I’ll ______.”If no, ask: Am I feeling someone else’s feelings?
→ If yes, can you give them back?
Other people’s emotions are not your responsibility.
What a beautiful way to define guilt. Gonna keep that one in my back pocket!