The Gift You Need to Get Yourself This Holiday...Whether You Want It Or Not

Last Wednesday, I rushed off to the grocery store after work. I ran through a minimal grocery list in my head: "What are the most basic items you need for the storm?" I asked myself. My plan wasn't a unique one. Lines of people extended from the registers far into the aisles, their baskets filled not with kombucha and kale, but with water and matches. I whizzed through the market crossing items off my list, eager to get in line then get home. 

On a normal day, my grocery trip consists of restocking the staples, but also lingering through the aisles, wondering if I should finally get ingredients for that recipe I've been wanting to try or whether I should consider a new snack. As the sights and smells go to my head, it becomes less and less clear what I need and what I want. 

Wednesday night was different. The urgency of the situation obviated the difference between my storm-needs and fair-weather-wants.

Besides a pre-storm grocery list, I distinguish between wants and needs  -- other people's wants and needs, that is -- on a daily basis. As a product manager, my main responsibility is to identify what people absolutely need and what would just be nice to have. And in most situations, I reliably make the determination.

Where I thrive in my job, I flounder in my personal life. Despite the daily practice (and Mother Nature's occasional test), I struggle to identify my personal needs versus wants. 

The problem is that I never learned how to tell the difference.

Growing up with a rigorous academic and extra-curricular schedule, my time was tight between school, activities, studying, and rehearsing. These were all things I "needed to do" to perform well. And because performing well would make my parents, and then me, happy, I convinced myself that these were all things I wanted to do (and I think I really did want to do some of them).  

On the rare occasion I could "Do whatever you want," I felt unsettled. I knew it really meant, "I have an opinion but I'm just not saying it," and I would press my parents to help determine what I wanted.

Did any of us really learn how to tell the difference between needs and wants? 

Feeding us, clothing us, and putting a roof over our heads, our parents did the hard work of determining (and fulfilling) our needs when we were younger. And whether or not we wanted our parents to intrude on our lives, we often needed them to. 

Recently, while staying with my family over Thanksgiving, I signed up for a local yoga class. The night before, I coordinated the time and car with my family. Everyone agreed. The next morning, just moments before I would need to leave in order to make it on time to my class, my mom asked me to drive her somewhere "on my way." As I processed her request, a storm built up inside me. I imagined what it would feel like to miss my class. 

"No," I thundered. "I need to leave for my class now. I've already paid for it." 

And I left. 

I was a different person after my class. The "me" that I like. The "me" that people know. As I walked out, I called my mom to ask where I could drive her. I was willing to drive her anywhere.

What I didn't realize that morning is that I didn't just want to go to my class and I didn't need to go just because I paid for it. I needed to go because my sanity and health required it. At twenty-six, I am only starting to recognize what I need -- physical activity, morning me-time, a snack routine -- to function as the human I want to be.   

One of the hardest parts of being a young adult is defining and distinguishing for yourself what you need in your day-to-day. Aspects like nutrition, physical health, mental health, and your job to name a few. The difficulty of the task shouldn't stop us from attempting it, though. Push yourself to start to identify your wants -- that which would be nice, but that you can do without -- and your needs -- that which you can't forgo, under any circumstance. 

Day-to-day life has a lot in common with grocery shopping. It's easy to get distracted by that shiny new thing you want to try; it's important to pick up what everyone wants. But if you leave without getting what you need, the trip was a waste. 

And when you don't get what you need, you'll be woefully unprepared to brave the worst of the storms -- the one that brews inside of you.