How to Be More Ted and Put Yourself First.

Let’s talk about something radical: prioritising yourself. I know, I know, shocking stuff. But somewhere between answering late-night emails, signing up for things we definitely don't want to attend but can't think of a good reason not to, and politely smiling while someone tells us about their kombucha-making journey for the fifth time, many of us have forgotten how to say one simple word: no.

Luckily, I live with a master of self-prioritisation. His name is Tedward. He’s a dog. And frankly, he’s got it all figured out when it comes to doing exactly what he wants and when. So read on for his three-step guide to saying no, doing less, and playing more; or, in short, putting yourself first.

Step One: Saying No (with zero guilt)

Ted has a very clear rule: if he doesn’t want to do something, he won’t. No matter how much

Rain outside? He’ll plant all four paws on the floor and look at me as if I’ve suggested we go BASE jumping. Visitors he’s not fond of? He simply leaves the room. Attempting a bath? Good luck. He’s already run off, changed his name, and gone into hiding before I've even got the shampoo out.

The thing is, Ted never feels the need to explain, justify, or draft a polite email about his boundaries. He just opts out - unapologetically and with more than a little sass (think the biggest sigh you’ve ever heard a dog do and then triple it).

Takeaway: You’re allowed to say no. Not “maybe” or “let me check” or “I suppose I could squeeze it in if I cancel dinner, sleep, and joy.” Just… no. Be like Ted. Plant your paws and be bold about it.

Step Two: Putting Yourself First (without becoming a monster)

Trust me, Ted doesn’t wake up thinking, “How can I make everyone else’s day easier?” No, he wakes up thinking: Walk.

Followed closely by:

Breakfast.

Nap.

Snack.

Nap again, but in a different room.

He knows what he likes and he sticks to it. And if something disrupts that carefully curated joy, like a vacuum cleaner, he’ll make his annoyance known and refuse to calm down until the demon vacuum cleaner has gone away.

Now, I’m not suggesting you flake on responsibilities or start barking at hoovers. But you are allowed to put yourself on your own to-do list. You’re not selfish for carving out time to rest, read, eat a decent lunch, or just sit and stare into the middle distance like Ted does at 3pm every day for reasons known only to him.

Takeaway: Your needs matter. No one’s handing out medals for burnout so stop pretending like they are and make your own medal for rest.

Step Three: Play More (it’s not just for puppies)

Play. Remember that? Ted does. And it’s one of his favourite pastimes.

For Ted, a new person is a source of unending joy. A squeaky toy? Instant euphoria (even if my eardrums are less of a fan). A tennis ball? Absolute mayhem in the best way. He doesn’t care what the neighbours think when he zooms around the garden like a caffeinated ferret. He plays because it’s fun. Because it feels good. Because it’s Tuesday and the grass is squishy. Because he wants to, not because he completed a massive to-do list first and now feels like he earned it.

When was the last time you did something just because it made you laugh? When did you last ditch your to-do list in favour of something ridiculous and delightful? I promise you, the laundry will wait. It’s very patient. So step away from the to-do list and go do something joyful instead, without having to earn it!

Takeaway: Go do something silly. Dance in your kitchen. Chase a metaphorical ball. Laugh until you wheeze. Life’s short. Play more!

WWTD?

Ted has no five-year plan. No ongoing to-do list stopping him from having fun. No impulse to say “yes” when he means “I’d rather chew my own tail off.” Yet somehow, he’s the most content creature I know.

So, the next time you're hesitating to set a boundary or wondering if it's ok to lie on the sofa instead of going to that thing you didn’t want to go to in the first place, just ask yourself:

What Would Ted Do?

(Then reward yourself with a biscuit and a lie down, obviously.)

If you’d like support finding your inner Ted, get in touch.