When I was staying at the homeless shelter, I had a pickup truck that had been sitting in storage. Once I checked out, I retrieved it and began driving around, still tied to the shelter while I moved my belongings out. That truck became a magnet for attention, and not always the kind I wanted.
For the next six months, people would approach me out of nowhere. “Hey, Sweasy, is that your truck?” they’d ask. I’d nod and say, “Yeah,” thinking that was the end of it. But then came the follow-up: “What are you doing Saturday?” I’d mumble, “Oh, nothing, I don’t think,” and before I knew it, they’d hit me with, “Can you help me move?”
Caught up in people-pleasing, I’d cave. “Okay, man, I’ll help you out,” I’d say, and just like that, my entire Saturday was gone. My truck, my time, my gas—all spent hauling someone else’s stuff. This didn’t happen once or twice; it became a pattern, repeated multiple times, all because I couldn’t say no.
Look, I get it. We help people and I’m glad I was available to do so. However, there is a time to draw a boundary if helping others starts to interfere with your progress and spiritual condition. There’s a difference in talking someone out of drinking or using if you’re able. Thats free and only requires your time and willingness, happy to do that.
Eventually, I hit my limit. It turned into a running joke, but I was dead serious when I posted about it on social media years ago. Now, when someone walks up and says, “Hey, Sweasy, is that your truck?” I don’t hesitate. “Yes,” I reply, “and I’m not helping you move, period.” That lesson in boundaries was hard-earned, but it’s one I’ll never forget.
~Sweasy
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