I Got a Present That I Hate. Now what?


I'm still in denial but the calendar says that the holidays are over. That means it's time to start conquering the new year and putting all of those holiday gifts to good use (gym membership, anyone?). But this year, there's something holding you back. It's that gift that your Great Aunt Jane got you that just wasn't right. It's been starting at you for a week now, making it hard to go on.  

We've all been there. It happens the moment you receive a present that you hate, don't need, and never want to interact with. There's this instant drop of the stomach, churning your insides with a quick flushing of the face. You look at your gift-giver, never in the eye, and thank them for the present. Praying for dear life that you weren't obvious about how much you absolutely can't stand it.

And now what? You're overwhelmed and can't figure out what the next move is. You should keep it. You should pretend to use it or maybe even force yourself to like it. But you know it'll never happen. It's going to sit in your closet and glare at you, infusing you with guilt every time you innocently go in there to get dressed. And if you keep it, it runs the risk is bogging you down and bringing gross feelings into your life. You know I'm right

So what's the answer? 

It's hard to hear, but I can assure you that the right move is to let it go sooner than later. Cut your losses (sorry Great Aunt Jane) and spare yourself the guilt going forward. Admit to yourself that this was a swing and miss and you're not willing to suffer the consequences. Because I can promise that coming across the unwanted gift again and again will upset you. It will upset you every time. Donate it, give it to a friend who's been longing for this very thing that you hate, sell it and buy something great with the money, burn it, feed it to a lion. Whatever you do, do not hold on to it. The longer you do, the harder it will be to eventually say goodbye. And until that day comes, it'll hang over you like a palm tree in The Bahamas. 

Tidy TovaComment