The Value of Just Saying “No.”

“No.”

“Say it again,” he urged. “This time with feeling.”

I laughed. “No!”

“Better. Keep practicing; you’ll improve, and soon it may even feel natural.”

I doubt it.

But I’m trying.

Why can’t I say “no?”

Oh, who knows?

I want to be agreeable, helpful, and considered valuable.

Sometimes I’m so busy guessing at someone else’s feelings that I can’t decline to do something.

That’s been true for too long.

But I was so busy last year, I needed help.

After the umpteenth (well-meaning) phone call asking me to do something, I had to take steps to stop it.

So, I wrote a Post-it note and stuck it on my computer.

I don’t think that admonition went a week before I broke it.

How about if Liz says, “No?”

I was whining, er, describing my predicament to a wise friend on the telephone. (I think all my friends named Liz are wise).

She took me firmly by the hand. “Michelle, you have a lot of things to do, important things to do. You cannot keep saying yes. You need to say no.”

“I know, I know, but . . . “

“No buts,” she interrupted in her wonderful schoolmarm voice. “I tell you. You have to say ‘no.'”

I nodded–even though she couldn’t see my response–and wrote another post-it note.

I put it next to the first one.

That helped.

A little.

And the friends who know Liz agreed. I needed to listen to Liz.

And yet…

Feeling trapped

I often feel trapped when I’m caught desperately trying to say “no” even as “sure” comes out of my mouth.

Again, this only may be me, but I feel my heart sinking as I mentally rearrange what I’d planned to do with that particular time.

Most of the time I manage a weak smile before going home to berate myself in private.

I’m hyper-aware of these feelings, and often when I ask someone to do something for me, I hedge it.

I’ll say something like, “Would you like to _________________? No is a fine answer.”

No one makes that offer to me.

Perhaps it’s because they know my boundaries are weak?

Now, at least, I take a breath and say, “I’ll need to check my calendar.”

I then go home and shore up my defenses for my true answer–even if it’s “no.”

A philosophical explanation for “stop.”

Someone, somewhere, had brilliant insight one day, and I managed to scribble it on a Post-it note.

Whoever you are, I thank you.

“‘No’ is a complete sentence. You can’t say ‘yes’ if you don’t feel you can say ‘no.'”

That word “feel” caught my eye.

Too often I don’t feel like I can say decline.

It doesn’t usually have anything to do with whether I want to say “no” or not.

It’s an emotional reaction to the person asking.

But if that person loves me, they want the best for me, right?

The people who love me–and whom I love back–are the ones who will accept me, no matter what I say.

Right?

And often–my husband looks at me–my family are the ones who suffer when I don’t say “no” often enough.

Recovering, but still not quite there yet.

I am doing better.

My life also has slowed down.

I’ve found places to explain how to say “no.”

I’ve also added Martin Luther to my admonition bar. 🙂

He was good at saying “no.”

How about you?