Leave the Party When You’re Still Having Fun

I confess, I'm an overstayer.?I’m the last one lingering in deep conversation on the deck as the other party guests head home, I’m the one still at the table while the restaurant staff are cleaning up, and I’m the kid who always wanted one more ride on the merry go round or to play one more round of truth or dare at slumber parties.

I’m also an overeater, over-decorator, and over-talker. If a little is good, I always want to do it more.

This quest to stay longer (eat more, add more throw pillows, etc.) has an occasional upside.?When The Greatest Showman came out in theaters, I went three nights in a row.?I can now recite every line of that movie as well as Hugh Jackman. ?But for the most part, trying to eek more out of a pleasurable experience usually diminishes it.

I’ve always admired people who confidently walk away from things. They leave the after-meeting huddle without worrying they’re going to miss gossip. They likely have one good set of candles on their dining room table, and they probably only own one pair of good navy slacks. I aspire to be one of those people.

My daughter often uses the expression, leave the party when you’re still having fun. For me, this sounds like pure madness. But in the spirit of personal growth, and ever hopeful for my own burgeoning maturity, I gave it a whirl.?I went to a neighbor’s party, and as the party heated up, I began having great fun, after about an hour of pure joy, I left.

I picked up my purse, thanked the host, and walked out the door. It was weird, and I must confess, it was also awesome.?I left on a high. I didn’t wait around for the party to disintegrate; I didn’t go through the mental gymnastics of evaluating whether or not it was still fun; I didn’t have an awkward moment where the host had to yawn and hint. ?I just left.

As I walked home, I found myself humming, thinking, that was awesome. ?It was in that moment, I fully realized the price I often pay for wanting more: When you stay too long, the last memory of the event is the less exciting moments. You walk away from a not-so-great party, or a not-so-funny round of truth or dare, or someone else telling you it was time to go. When you leave early, you go out on a high.

I love writing. I especially love writing about people, what we think, what we do, who we are at our best, and how we interact with each other.?I’ve been writing a weekly column about life, love, work, and people for over 15 years.?

I continue to enjoy it, which is why we’ve decided to change it. We don’t want to overstay our weekly welcome into your inbox, so starting next month, we’ll be going monthly with the Work on Purpose newsletter. In addition to a written piece, we'll also include a short video or two with quick tips to help you find a moment of happiness, deal with annoying people, or plan your next venture.?

Monthly and multimedia, it’s a new party, we hope you enjoy it.