The Messy Middle (A Quick Story)
As a therapist, I sit with people in the messy middle of expectations all the time. That gut-drop,“this is not how I thought it would go”, can feel like a giant bummer (very clinical).
And a quick aside, helping others doesn’t mean unmet expectations skip me. I’m human; I wrestle with them daily (okay, sometimes several times a day). Often the bummer shows up because I believed I’d set the stage for a certain outcome… and then I realize I missed the mark. My first impulse? Over-fix, withdraw, or build invisible walls of passive-aggression. (Stompy for kids; a little (sometimes a lot) stabby for adults.)
It is important to tell people how we feel and why. But even when we share clearly, we can’t expect others to instantly “get it,” agree, or come around on our timeline. That’s the part that hurts—and where our power actually lives.
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The Wake-Up
When disappointment hits, it’s usually because my happiness quietly migrated into someone else’s hands. They now hold my mood; I feel powerless, and often angry, anxious, or both (never fun). Expectation management is how I take my power back without steamrolling anyone else. Also, I do this imperfectly.
Empathy with Limits (for Others and for Myself)
I lean on the parenting idea of empathy with limits: listen first, set a kind boundary second. With teens and young adults, it sounds like:
“I hear you’re overwhelmed—it’s a lot to manage. And chores still need 10 minutes tonight so the house runs. Do you want a hand, or do you have it?” |
With adults (including me), the same move applies: slow down, name the feeling/notice the experience, then name a limit or a need. Directing people might get short-term compliance, but it rarely creates closeness. Empathy + limit does.
The holidays bring pressure and high expectations, plus many external factors we don’t control, not even a little. How/when/where/in what mood will someone show up? “This party is going to be amazing—everyone will arrive on time, get along, and have a great time.”
That’s a powerless statement: a high-stakes outcome with minimal ability to influence the result. We say and believe versions of it all the time and feel surprised or devastated when it turns out differently.
Expectation Management (Especially for the Holidays)
I often walk clients through an exercise before an upcoming event. We make a short list of what they expect will happen, using three tiers—and we name what each looks like in their mind.
Minimum → Reasonable → Bonus/Lottery
We dream up perfection—everyone on time, every dish hot, zero snark, maximum sparkle—and then feel shocked when reality is… reality.
The truth: we control far less than we wish. We do control our asks, boundaries, and next steps. This three-tier check keeps hope alive without letting it run the show:
- Minimum: shoot very, very low.
- Reasonable & achievable: reality check—real people, real constraints.
- Bonus/Lottery: the delightful extra—a lovely surprise if it happens, not the plan.
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Many clients lean into magical thinking to define what will happen. It’s okay to want amazing; it’s risky to expect it. When the dream is treated as guaranteed, emotional zigzags follow, landing on major disappointment, even devastation and confusion: “Why didn’t it turn out the way I thought?”
Thanksgiving: Minimum → Reasonable → Bonus/Lottery
Minimum (very, very low): I show up. I stop folks here first—because this is the piece you control most. People want to add more; I remind them that those things may happen, but this is the absolute minimum in their control. If you arrive at the event, that’s cause for a tiny celebration. From there, we can expand the Minimum: I show up as close to on time as I can, with my dish. If I get flooded, I step outside for 5 minutes—or leave—without drama.
Reasonable & achievable: I’ll socialize as best I can, knowing big gatherings can spike my anxiety. I tend to myself, exit conversations I’m not enjoying, and respectfully leave a cluster/table/room/house as needed. I trust myself to be the best caretaker of myself.
Bonus/Lottery (not the plan): Everyone’s on time with their dish, the vibe is easy, conversation flows, we laugh and linger. Lovely—and largely out of my control.
That’s not quitting on connection; it’s choosing reality as the operating system. Sometimes folks get anxious when they realize how much is outside their control—then the penny drops, and there’s relief. If it isn’t in your power, you can let it go.
On resentment and control
I saw a bumper sticker that stopped me: “Resentment is taking poison while waiting for someone else to die.” Oof. When we outsource our mood to someone else’s behavior, resentment is the bill that arrives. The antidote isn’t to want less from life; it’s to anchor in what we control and speak plainly.
Clarity vs. passive-aggression
When disappointment hits, many of us slip into hints, tone, or silence, hoping others will just know. It’s understandable (we’re protecting ourselves), and it also prolongs the hurt. Try this tiny swap:
- Mind-reading → Mind-sharing: “Here’s my Minimum. Here’s what’s Reasonable. Here’s the Bonus/Lottery.”
- All-or-nothing → Mosaic thinking: the night can still be good without being perfect.
Scripts for live moments
Family with teens/young adults
- Empathy + limit: “I get that you’re fried after practice—and chores still need 10 minutes tonight. Do them now or after dinner?”
- Clean ask: “Please text ETA by 9:30. If I don’t hear from you, I’ll assume plans changed and I’m heading to bed.”
- Curfew boundary: “Home by 11:00 tonight. If you need a ride, call—no lecture, just safety.”
- Topic timeout: “Not talking about class assignments or grades right now. Let’s check in tomorrow at 4 after we both reset.”
- Minimum reset: “Kindness is the floor here. Take five if voices get sharp; we’ll circle back.”
Before the event
- I’m bringing ___ and aiming for ___ arrival. If I’m running late, I’ll text a new ETA.
- If conversation gets spicy, I’m going to step out for a breather, no drama intended.
At the table (politics/zingers)
- De-escalate: “I care about this, and I’m not up for a debate today. Passing on this one.”
- Lane-setting: “I’m here to connect, not convince. Let’s park politics for another day.”
- Boundary + redirect: “I’m skipping this topic. Tell me about your new project?”
- Exit kindly: “Gonna refresh my water. I’ll catch you in a bit.”
If a “verbal Molotov cocktail” lands
- Mirror + move: “Oof—spicy. I’m stepping out for air.”
- Name impact: “That landed sharp for me. I’m not doing that today.”
- Minimum reset: “Kindness is my floor. If that’s off the table, I’m going to head out.”
After a wobble
- Repair light: “Hey, I got flooded and bailed on that conversation. I’m okay now—happy to talk about movies or pie.”
Notice that none of these statements depend on someone else agreeing or ‘permitting’ you to take these steps. You are a fully grown-up person here. Own it.
Before you go: A gentle wrap-up.
This work is not easy. Naming your Minimum, asking for what’s Reasonable, and letting the Bonus stay a Bonus takes courage and practice. You’re the only person you’re going to wake up with every day for the rest of your life—so how do you meet your needs so you can look yourself in the eyes—well, most days—knowing you’re taking care of you?
Advocating for yourself is not selfish; it’s responsible. When we practice Minimum → Reasonable → Bonus, everyone wins: we reduce resentment, model clarity, and make more room for real connection. Managing expectations, for the win—for you.
Thanks for reading, and take it easy on yourself.
Best, Audrianna
Gentle Journal Prompts
Control & agency
1. Where am I outsourcing my mood to someone else’s timing or tone?
2. Circle one verb that’s mine today (say / ask / clarify / leave / soothe). What’s the tiniest action?
Minimum–Reasonable–Bonus
3. For the next gathering: write a comically low Minimum. Then a truly Reasonable middle. Then your Bonus/Lottery—and a sentence releasing it.
Clarity swap
4. Translate a passive-aggressive urge into a clean sentence. Write both versions. Which one respects you and the relationship?
Zingers & hidden chasms
5. What phrase will I use to exit hot talk kindly? (Write one now.)
6. What’s my re-centering move when flooded? (Breath, water, outside, text a friend.)
Resentment detox
7. Where am I quietly “taking poison”?
8. What boundary or Minimum would remove the poison from my cup?
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