I opted out of being the ‘group planner.’ What happened next surprised me
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It begins with seven words, which only get louder around this time of year.
“It’s been ages! We should catch up.”
Up until now, my response was to nod in agreement and tell them I’ll text some dates, then dutifully book something in within a week. But something happened this time last year, when I was trying to fit in catch-ups amongst an already cluttered schedule of kids’ sports, a hectic workload and family commitments. I realised it was always me sending the calendar, securing the date that worked for everyone, the venue recommendations, and the booking confirmations.
Perhaps I only had myself to blame. I’ve always been a planner. Enjoyed the feeling of ticking something off my to do list, being thanked for “making it happen.” Every friendship group has one. But the thing is, when you do something enough, people just begin expecting it.
Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore a good catch-up sesh with my close friends, and I’m very thankful that I can do so at a time of year that can be lonely for many. But there was a wider circle of people I’d met through others or struck up a conversation with at gatherings, where the relationship had somehow moved beyond pleasantries to being stuck in a seemingly endless cycle of “we should catch up” every month until it became more of a task to tick off than actually enjoy.
The actual “catch up” was essentially racing through a cup of lukewarm coffee and a list of how have you been’s as if we were speed dating, then leaving feeling as though we hadn’t actually said much at all.
Honestly? I personally would be happy catching up far less, and actually enjoying that time together, than attempting to squeeze it in between kids’ sports and work and life admin.
So last year, overwhelmed, I made a decision to just… stop. I decided not to be the first to dutifully reach out, or organise something when they told me it had to be “far too long!” I waited for them to suss out and lock in the date that worked for everyone, to book the cafe, to “make it happen.”
And what happened next might surprised me.
Some began planning the catch-ups themselves. It took a while, but the dynamic changed and suddenly I was off the hook.
As for the others? I never heard back from them when I responded to their catch-up request with “sure, send me some dates!” It might be that they were truly too busy to plan anything, or perhaps it was simply that those friendships had reached the end of their season. But it was, honestly, quite freeing. There was no bad blood or awkwardness. Perhaps they’d been just as overwhelmed as I was, and just needed a nudge to get out of the “we should catch up” cycle.
Now, exhilarated by my newfound freedom, I’ve extended my “opting out” to what is often known as the most stressful time of year; the Festive Season. Where women are notoriously the planners, the present buyers, the menu pickers and organisers, as per Emma Macdonald’s rousing article.
It’s already causing confusion in the household.
“But…we always do the Santa photos,” the husband said when I told him I was opting out, cocking his head in confusion.
Yes, I replied, because I always plan them. Wrangle the kids in red and green outfits to wait in line, while they groan and moan, then have a meltdown over not being able to go into the nearby toy store instead.
So, what will this season look like? You might still find me holding a festive cocktail in hand, or sitting with Santa sporting Reindeer ears. But for the first time in a long time, I just won’t be the one planning it.
