Today I Choose to be Reasonable – How to be Reasonable

The text came at 7:42 PM on a Sunday: “Can you jump on a quick call? Have an urgent question about tomorrow’s presentation.”

Old me would have jumped. Phone in hand within seconds, apologies for not responding faster, ready to solve whatever crisis had emerged. Because that’s what reliable people do, right? They’re always available. Always helpful. Always unreasonably reasonable.

But New me, post-Curtis’s-hospital-crisis me, looked at that text and thought: No. Sunday evening is my time. Tomorrow’s presentation has been ready for a week. Your poor planning is not my emergency.

I texted back: “I’ll be available at 8 AM tomorrow. Have a good evening.”

Then I turned off my phone and went back to painting.

The Unreasonable Expectation of Constant Availability

When did it become reasonable to expect instant responses at all hours? When did boundaries become unreasonable? When did protecting your own time and energy become selfish?

I’ll tell you when: When we all got smartphones and decided that having the ability to be reached meant we had the obligation to be reachable.

But here’s what I’ve learned at 61: Being reasonable doesn’t mean being a doormat. It doesn’t mean saying yes to everything. It doesn’t mean sacrificing your well-being for other people’s convenience.

Being reasonable means having reasonable boundaries. And it’s taken me six decades to learn that.

The Sunday Night Revelation

That Sunday night text was a test. Not from the universe, but from a colleague who had a pattern:

• Create crisis through procrastination
• Panic at the last minute
• Make it everyone else’s emergency
• Get rescued by helpful people (usually me)
• Learn nothing
• Repeat

For years, I’d been the reasonable one who always helped. The reliable one who always responded. The one who enabled this pattern by cushioning the consequences of poor planning.

But reasonable has limits. Or it should.

The Boundary Experiments

After that Sunday night, I started experimenting with reasonable boundaries:

Experiment 1: Email Hours
I only respond to emails between 8 AM and 5 PM. Emails sent at 10 PM no longer get responses at 10:15 PM. They get responses the next business day. Like a reasonable professional with a life.

Result: The world didn’t end. People adjusted. Some even apologized for late-night emails.

Experiment 2: The 24-Hour Yes Rule
Any request for my time gets a 24-hour consideration period. No more instant yes because I feel pressured. No more commitments I regret before I even hang up the phone.

Result: I say yes to about 50% less stuff, and the stuff I say yes to, I actually want to do.

Experiment 3: The Committee Exodus
I resigned from every committee where I had no actual decision-making power. Sitting through two-hour meetings to provide input that gets ignored isn’t reasonable. It’s insane.

Result: I got back 10 hours a month and my blood pressure medication dosage decreased.

The Reasonable Response to Unreasonable Requests

Learning to be reasonable with unreasonable requests has been revolutionary. Some scripts I’ve developed:

“That timeline doesn’t work for me. I can deliver by X date instead.”

“I’m not available for evening calls. Let’s schedule something during business hours.”

“That’s outside my scope. Here’s what I can offer instead.”

“No.” (Complete sentence. No explanation required.)

Each time I use one of these scripts, I brace for explosion, anger, the end of the relationship. You know what usually happens? Nothing. People adjust. They find another solution. They respect the boundary.

And the ones who don’t? The ones who get angry that I won’t drop everything for their emergency? Those are the exact people I need boundaries with.

The Physical Cost of Being Unreasonably Accommodating

For decades, I prided myself on being the most reasonable person in any room. Yes to every request. Available for every crisis. Accommodating to the point of self-destruction.

The physical toll:

• Chronic tension headaches from saying yes when I meant no
• Digestive issues from eating at my desk to accommodate meetings
• Insomnia from processing all the commitments I’d made
• Back pain from sitting through unnecessary meetings
• Exhaustion from giving energy I didn’t have

My body was keeping score of every unreasonable yes, and the bill was coming due with interest.

The Reasonable Allocation of Limited Resources

At 61, I finally understand that my resources are limited:

• Energy: Not renewable daily like I thought at 30
• Time: Definitely finite and moving faster each year
• Patience: Nearly depleted for unnecessary drama
• Health: Directly impacted by stress and overcommitment
• Care: I still care, but I’m selective about where I invest it

Being reasonable means allocating these limited resources reasonably. Not giving them away to whoever asks first or yells loudest.

The Relationship Recalibration

When you start being reasonable about boundaries, relationships recalibrate. Some examples from my experience:

The energy vampire colleague who called nightly with crises? She found someone else to drain when I stopped answering after 6 PM.

The friend who only called when she needed something? We don’t talk anymore, and I don’t miss the one-sided extraction.

The client who expected instant responses? They learned to plan better or found someone else to exploit.

But here’s the beautiful part: The relationships that survived the boundary implementation got better. People who respect boundaries are people worth keeping around.

The Reasonable No

Learning to say a reasonable no has been life-changing. Not a guilty no. Not an apologetic no. Not a no followed by extensive justification. Just a reasonable no to unreasonable requests.

“Can you take on this extra project?” No, my plate is full.

“Can you cover my shift/meeting/responsibility?” No, that doesn’t work for me.

“Can you just quickly…” No, there’s no such thing as quickly in my experience.

Each no protects space for a future yes to something that matters.

The Tuesday Lunch Boundary

Here’s a specific boundary that changed my life: Tuesday lunch with Curtis is sacred. Non-negotiable. Written in stone.

“Can we schedule a meeting Tuesday at lunch?” No, I’m booked.

“It’s the only time everyone can meet.” Then everyone can’t meet.

“It’s really important.” So is my marriage.

This one boundary, fiercely protected, has done more for my relationship than any grand gesture. It’s reasonable to prioritize your life partner over your work calendar.

The Reasonable Revolution at 61

Being reasonable at 61 looks different than at 31:

At 31: Reasonable meant accommodating, flexible, always available, eager to please.

At 61: Reasonable means balanced, boundaried, appropriately available, eager to protect my energy.

At 31: Success meant never saying no.

At 61: Success means saying no to protect my yes.

At 31: Reasonable meant meeting everyone else’s needs.

At 61: Reasonable means meeting my own needs so I can sustainably meet others’.

Today’s Choice

Today I choose to be reasonable. Not infinitely accommodating. Not boundlessly available. Not unreasonably reasonable. Just reasonable.

Reasonable with my time – it’s limited and valuable.

Reasonable with my energy – it’s finite and precious.

Reasonable with my commitments – they should align with my priorities.

Reasonable with my boundaries – they protect my ability to show up fully.

Being reasonable doesn’t mean being rigid. I still help in genuine emergencies. I still flex when it truly matters. I still show up for people I care about.

But I no longer mistake someone else’s poor planning for my emergency. I no longer sacrifice my well-being for others’ convenience. I no longer equate being helpful with being boundaryless.

That Sunday night text? The colleague survived until Monday morning. The presentation went fine. The crisis that wasn’t a crisis resolved itself. And I had a lovely evening painting, phone off, boundaries intact.

That’s what reasonable looks like at 61: Knowing that you can be kind without being a doormat. Helpful without being exploited. Available without being always on.

It’s reasonable to have a life outside of other people’s expectations. It’s reasonable to protect your time and energy. It’s reasonable to say no.

In fact, it’s the most reasonable thing I’ve learned to do.