"No one is coming to us for the holiday, consider it canceled," I informed Milka, and she was horrified | A moving story

Hello, I'm Michael (38) and my wife is Milka (37).

We're a very nice couple (I never imagined I would compliment myself like this), the kind that really loves to help, make people feel good, and fulfill their requests.

But we have something in common: it's hard for us to say the word "no." If someone asks for something and it's inconvenient for us, we'll say 'yes' and give them our soul. We were really caught up in this situation.

This would happen, for example, when I'm already in the car and in a big hurry, but then someone asks to join me in the direction I'm driving. I'm completely stressed out, and I find myself waiting for them to come down from the house where they went to fetch something.

"30 seconds and I'll be down," they said, and I've already been waiting for 3 minutes. It also happened once when I was waiting for Milka with all the kids in the car to go on vacation, and she arrived after fifteen minutes and then announced: "Let's take Dvorele (the neighbor's daughter) to the train station, so she doesn't miss her train."

We found ourselves with all the children in the car, stuck in heavy traffic to the train station, and inside we were on pins and needles. We were always guided by concepts of kindness and love for others, we saw everything happening around us as something closely connected to us, we also always loved to look for stories and ideas that what we do 'is something great,' and that this is what needs to be done now, this is what God wants from us, etc.

We didn't realize that there are certain people who specifically seek out people like us, those who please others, those who can ultimately be made to do what they want. And then something happened, exactly one week before Passover.

For 8 years since our marriage, on Passover night we had been guests at our parents' homes, each year at each side with a few more days during the intermediate days of the holiday, and from there to the other side until the second holiday day and beyond.

But Milka suggested that this time we hold the Seder night in our home with our four children who had already grown and could be told the story of the Exodus from Egypt. As every year, I participated in cleaning the house together with Milka since the beginning of the month of Nisan, and that year we did the shopping at the same time. I even bought a new tablecloth from RTC for the honor of the Seder night, so that the respectability would be at its peak.

But then I received a call, which I want to tell you about. It happened a week before the holiday, my brother Yossi called me. "What's this I heard that you're alone on Seder night, huh? Do you think I'll let you be alone? You're coming to us for the Seder," he declared. We hadn't planned to go to anyone, especially since the whole reason was to be together with our children, to hear from them and tell them the story of the Exodus from Egypt.

Yossi is my older brother by a few years, he has 10 children, one of whom is a married daughter. Yossi is a dear and beloved brother who helps me a lot in life and I've also received many pieces of advice and insights from him. I explained to him that regardless of him, we decided this year to have the holiday at home by our own choice and we don't feel alone, but then he began with tremendous persuasion, something that had never happened before.

A few minutes hadn't passed, and Milka received a phone call from Shoshi, Yossi's wife. "Come on, we're not giving up. As soon as we heard you're at home, we decided you're coming to us," she said kindly. I couldn't take it, this pressure from Yossi and Shoshi seemed too much. Milka received another call from Shoshi.

"You won't be alone, no way," she said. Milka explained to her again that we're not alone, we're together with our children. Shoshi didn't let up, Milka refused again, and without noticing, she said a sentence that complicated things for us: "I'm staying home this holiday and not going anywhere, whoever wants can come to me."

This sentence really appealed to my brother and sister-in-law, and she jumped at the offer. "Well, you know what?! We'll do it in your honor so you won't be alone. But I'll prepare the meat, and don't stress about the salads because I'm preparing q u a n t i t i e s... By the way, I'll try to get some mattresses too and we'll make a boys' room and a girls' room so there will be a room for our Miri and Eli who were supposed to be with us for the holiday..."

Milka hadn't yet realized what happened here, she didn't notice that there was someone who had been waiting to hear these words and jump on them. She just threw out this sentence and Shoshi had already arranged her holiday meal down to the last detail. I saw Milka exhausted, just the thought of all the work she needed to do for this holiday for the many people who had imposed their arrival on her intensified her feeling of despair.

Hosting 13 people at home during the holiday (this includes the married couple who automatically joins with Yossi and Shoshi) and on Passover night no less?! That's a logistical nightmare. We couldn't say a word, Yossi is my older brother who has given me a lot and I owe him a lot, and Shoshi 'understood' from us that we were actually inviting them, and went with the situation and arranged things for us.

I hadn't yet absorbed the news that Milka had shared with me, and I already received a call from Yossi. "You have no idea how happy I am that we'll celebrate the Seder night together, I have so much to tell you, you don't understand how happy I am Michael," he said excitedly.

And then came the call from my mother, who didn't hide her excitement. "Good for you, you have no idea how happy I am that you're together," she said in an especially joyful tone.

I felt that all these conversations were a kind of reality embedding. Each such conversation made it more difficult for me to think (if at all) about canceling their arrival to our home for the holiday.

It's a feeling that someone is actually forcing you through a well-known psychological method to reconsider the situation you've found yourself in.

Milka had already made an additional shopping list, inquired about chairs and mattresses from the neighborhood gemach (free loan service), and the pressure rose to heights I hadn't seen in her before.

I approached Milka and told her that I would do everything to make it easier for her, and help her with everything needed for this unexpected hosting. It didn't help, my dear wife couldn't calm herself, and blamed herself for those words she said: "Whoever wants can come to me."

Suddenly I heard her shouting and talking to the children in a different way, the atmosphere at home changed and I saw before my eyes a stressed, angry, and resentful woman.

I turned to her and reminded her again that I am with her at every moment, but Milka didn't see anyone before her eyes and became unusually impatient. I went out to the balcony to calm down a bit, and right there I thought and thought, what is actually happening to us. In one day my house had completely changed, Milka really couldn't bear this hosting, maybe because she's a perfectionist and regardless of what else.

I understood that what was required of me now was to ease her burden and to clearly identify her distress, and not to see anyone right now except her. I had already taken my phone out of my pocket to cancel this hosting.

"I'd rather feel uncomfortable with my brother for a few seconds, than for a week before the holiday and during the holiday itself," I muttered to myself. "Right now is my opportunity, to stop the image of myself and my wife, to stop pleasing everyone." I called Yossi.

What's up Yossi? What could be up Michael, everyone here is excited.

There's a change in plans.

What? You're coming to us?

No. Okay.

Yossi, we really want you to come, but it's stressful for us and doesn't work out this time, and it has nothing to do with you at all. Silence. Yossi are you with me.

Yes yes, completely with you. There will be other opportunities God willing. Sure sure, everything's good. So maybe you'll come to us and that's it...

Thank you dear, we're staying at home with the children. I didn't care at all what he would think or what anyone in the world would think of me, after seeing my wife's condition. So we'll see each other at our parents' during the intermediate days God willing. Everything's fine Michael, I'm glad you're so open with me. Thank you, we'll talk.

I entered the house, Milka handed me the shopping list and asked me to go to the supermarket to increase quantities. I held the list in my hand, tore it up and threw it in the trash. And then I said a sentence that brought my wife back to her natural state: "No one is coming to us for the holiday, consider it canceled."

"How embarrassing... What, did you call him? What did you say to him?" she asked anxiously. "In the nicest way, that it doesn't suit us and everything is fine dear," I reassured her.

But Milka felt uncomfortable about them, and took hard what I had done. "Milka, it's perfectly fine, we can also say no," I clarified. Milka sat on a nearby chair, and exhaled all the air left in her lungs.

"You have no idea what a weight you've just lifted from my heart," she said, almost crying. The interesting thing is that Yossi took it so well, even if I didn't really care what he would think.

We spent the Seder night in tranquility, I got to know my children deeply thanks to this holiday, I understood how much they needed this stage on this holy night, how much they needed this 'nuclear' gathering, and above all I saw the contentment and calmness of Milka, she simply returned to herself.

Only then did I understand how many things we had done until now during our marriage, out of suffering and discomfort under complete duress, and we convinced ourselves that it was by choice, when we could have ended the saga each time in just a few seconds, and saved ourselves pressure and difficulty over a long time.

People sometimes appreciate more what you do for them when you also know how to say 'no,' that's how I've felt since then. There are people close to us who feel comfortable with us precisely because of closeness, but we don't feel comfortable with them and don't treat them with the same coin, and we make calculations that they don't make, and we suffer while they enjoy life.

If we pay attention to ourselves, our people-pleasing is actually a defense against opposition from our environment. Those who tend to please are very conscientious people with especially high manners.

Remember: even if giving and generosity are precious values in our lives, they must come from a place of choice and not out of submission and helplessness. If someone pleases you at every opportunity, take into account that deep inside they feel guilt and over time they develop a low and fragile self-image.

The need to please others stems in many cases from social anxiety, from the fear of disappointing, angering, from the fear that the person I refused will no longer want my company, from the fear of not being loved. Don't help them not be faithful to their desires and not fulfill their wishes.

Fear is temporary, regret is forever.