The Art of Saying “No” and Other Stories
One of the things that blew my mind in my twenties was, “‘No’ is a complete sentence.” Like, you’re telling me I can just say “No”? And everything will be fine? What a peculiar and fascinating concept! I pushed it to the back of my mind and let it simmer there for a few years, never quite ready to test it, but gently stirring it ever so often.
“What if I said no to this right now? What would happen?”
“Can I say no to this?”
“This feels like one of those instances to say “No”. Should I?”
I chickened out every time.
At thirty, I’m starting to think I need a “Year of No” much like Shonda Rhimes’ “Year of Yes” because of the people-pleaser and doormat tendencies I’ve lived with. But as it would turn out, you can’t just declare “I’m going to live a ‘Year of No’” and sit back. Because every fibre in you will struggle when you try to articulate “no”, almost like your brain doesn’t know what you’re trying to do. You can’t just dive headfirst into stopping something you’ve done all your life when you don’t even examine why you’ve been doing it all your life. So, bring on all the ~deep~ reflection and internalisation. And here’s what I’ve learned. We avoid saying “no” because we have been conditioned to believe we can’t, and we shouldn’t. Over the years, we’ve learned to not say “no” to:
Fit in in the playground.
Not be the uncooperative minority.
Fulfil our role as the eldest daughter.
Fulfil our role as a woman for that matter.
Fit in at work.
Seem capable at work.
Not lose relationships.
We don’t say no because we have to make someone happy, we don’t want to inconvenience someone, we don’t want to seem rude. At the expense of ourselves. And all that has done is teach us to:
Shrink ourselves.
Lose ourselves.
Disappear ourselves.
It’s such an attractive marketing pamphlet we get as the modern woman, isn’t it? That if we just learn to manage, prioritise, plan, write out to-do lists, maybe even ask for the occasional help, we can have it ALL. We can be the career woman, the loving wife, the attentive mother, the doting daughter, the supportive friend, with a spotless home and a fridge packed with meals cooked by us. An extension of what women are raised to be: the helper and the healer. So, we don’t say no. And we trudge on, trying to do everything that comes our way, telling ourselves, we can have it all. We bend over backwards to rationalise why we shouldn’t say no to something. The amount we are able to think about the recipient of our potential “no”; to put ourselves in their shoes is something of an Olympic event, isn’t it? Why don’t we do the same for ourselves?
The result? Sooner or later, we start to pour from empty cups. We give and give, depleting ourselves, because let’s be honest, few of us actually feel like we receive at the volume we give. All while no one says “No” for you. No one is going to say, “No, no, it’s fine, you don’t have to do this, why don’t you go soak in a lavender-scented bubble bath for an hour so you can refill your cup?” If anything, the more you say “Yes”, the more people start to expect from you. Is it any wonder how resentful we can feel sometimes? Almost looks like saying “no” is not just about boundaries, it’s a form of self-care as well, doesn’t it? Saying no to something means you can say yes to filling your cup. Sometimes maybe you don’t even fill it. You just leave it at the level it is without exhausting it just a bit more. Isn’t that good enough?
It’s incredible how we have this self-awareness, that we are too tired, or have too much on our plate already, or that we just don’t want to simply because we are human beings, yet, we are able to override that and push ourselves to do something we don’t really want to. It’s so easy to talk myself into something, simplifying it as, “Okay, it’s just one dinner, I can do that. It’s fine!” But for someone like me, it’s not just dinner – I fret over my outfit. I don’t do well with crowds. My commute deserves the Mission Impossible theme song because of my previous panic attacks on trains. All this is before confirming there’s something for me to actually eat at the restaurant because sometimes people don’t factor dietary needs. Or feel the paltry mushroom pasta a restaurant offers should do – a pasta I poke at, thinking, “This cost $20, I could have made this at home. They couldn’t even throw some truffle oil or parmesan shavings on top to make it ~fancy~?” And watch the occasional person throw a fit at the restaurant, asking to speak to a manager for no good reason other than that we live in a world where a complaint rewards you with complimentary vouchers to smooth things over. “Why didn’t he just stay home if he’s so unhappy about this place?” I would wonder. The irony being, why didn’t I?
And here’s something else I’ve realised: saying “no” doesn’t make you a bad person. If anything, it just makes sure you offer the best version of yourself to the things and people that actually matter. It means you don’t stretch yourself beyond what you’re capable of. Yes, people close to you should be able to know you have your days too but if I can’t meet a friend for dinner today and do so anyway, maybe I won’t be able to give her the listening ear she might need. Wouldn’t it be better to meet on a day I feel better? Because at the end of the day, all relationships thrive on communication – someone who cares would be able to understand you want to meet on a day you would be able to better engage. Someone who cares would understand you need the evening for yourself. Yet, why do we feel like the universe will implode with one “no”? Why do we overestimate our importance, and underestimate the average person’s tenacity? It’s perfectly fine to fear how someone would react if we said no. But if we say no, and they react badly, then that’s extremely telling of the relationship we have with them.
Which is where you need to take a minute to reflect on your relationship: how many feel mutual and how many feel one-sided? This person whom you’re struggling to say “no” to, have they said “no” to you already? How easy was it for them? Because the more we say “yes”, the more we are teaching someone about our boundaries or lack thereof. Especially as a people-pleaser, my “yes” to almost everything has taught people they can come to me with their problems. I’ve found myself being drained of that “healer” or “good listener” role while receiving absolutely nothing in return. And this realisation and reflection brought out some uglier sides of myself to me. Did I blur all these boundaries just so I can feel needed and valued? Did I encourage co-dependency for selfish reasons? Did I let myself be treated this way because I was raised to be that person who takes on a near maternal role to everyone in my life? And that just raised a question that made me recoil in disgust: “Why is it so easy to deny myself self-respect?”
Initially, I wanted to write this after I asserted a few “no”s of my own. Then, I realised that learning to say “no” is not going to be a linear process and obviously, this isn’t going to happen overnight. But these reflections also highlighted something important to me: I’m learning to say “no”, but I still can’t do so without explaining myself just a little – “No, I’m busy.” “No, I have other plans.” No, but thank you so much for thinking of me though!!” The people-pleaser just has to peak through a little. So, would I say I have mastered the art of saying no? No, I’m very much still a work in progress.
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