No, thank you

 Last night I had yet another conversation with a friend about how hard it is to say "no" when we could, if we contorted ourselves enough, say "yes." Almost every woman I know struggles with this, and I've been thinking about how we got to that place.

We were taught.

"Don't you want to help your brother?" No, I do not (and he never helps me), but I know that the correct answer is "yes."

"You wouldn't mind picking up this extra shift/task/problem, would you?" Yes, I would mind. I know I can't say no to you without jeopardy.

"You believe me, don't you?" from lovers, bosses, parents who do things that hurt us and then explain why really, it wasn't their fault, wasn't their plan, wasn't their problem. No, I don't. But what else will you do to me if I say so?

When we say yes - I will give you my time, my body, my love, my efforts, my labor, my support - we are told how good we are. We are told that we are thoughtful, and considerate, and so easy to be around. We are told "I love how supportive you are" and "You're so dependable."

And we long to be dependable and supportive, to be Very Good Girls Deserving of Such Praise.

But even more than that, we've learned that the fallout can be punitive. These were not actually questions, they were passive aggressive demands that put the pressure on us to respond appropriately. 

"I expected more from you."

"I guess you don't care about me after all."

... and the result is that affection is withheld, promotions are not forthcoming, or even violence results. The threat that our compliance is necessary in order to maintain our place in the family, to prove our worth in the workplace, to deserve love, is a raw fact that we don't admit even to ourselves. In the worst cases, the threat is that violence will ensue - violent words, violent actions.

I had a boss long ago who was, frankly, a disaster. He liked to believe himself all knowing, and beloved by all, when the reality was that many in our work community disrespected him and his authoritative, pompous, occasionally ridiculous management style. He hired me to a new position to grow revenue, and I started to do just that, bringing in income that the company had never seen before. Rather than heaping praise upon me, he told me to stop trying to change things - things were just fine the way they were, and I was the upstart employee judging perfectly good systems. I pointed out, rather reasonably, I thought, that he brought me in to change revenue, and that I couldn't change revenue unless I changed the approach (and besides, my changes had already proven effective). This pushback - saying no to his ideas about how I should work - caused him to fly into a rage. He shouted, slammed his hand down on my desk, threatened, and actually slammed the door to my office as he left, loudly talking about insubordination and disrespect. He didn't dislike the particulars of my ideas, he just disliked that I wanted to do anything different than he had done previously, his ego harmed by my suggestions for change. And he REALLY disliked that I said "no, I can't grow income without doing things differently than you did before."

I sat at my desk, shaking. I'd never raised my voice to him, and I'd only pointed out our success (giving him credit for supporting earlier ideas I'd come up with, giving him credit for the business success we were now seeing), and gently saying that I wouldn't be able to change profits unless he let me change something else to prompt those profits - brought about his rage. I feared that I'd lose my job and my reputation. I feared that my colleagues would think I was terrible (on this, I was wrong - the one that overheard him came to my office, closed my door, and invited me to go get drinks after work to talk about what a jerk he was).

I resolved the problem by looking for, and finding, another job. I was lucky (or smart, or both), and got a better job with higher pay. (Equally terrible management, but that's another story.) But in the time between his rage, and my fear that I'd be fired for not bringing in more income and my fear that I'd be fired for reasonably suggesting that we'd have to do things differently to get different results, I lived under the fear of additional rage episodes. (I didn't get fired, but his rage was real, and not infrequent, and was applied in my direction more often after that incident.) I'm still mad about it, all those years later, and take a bit of cold comfort in the fact that the organization's revenue declined significantly after I left, proof that I'd been right all along.

But in the meantime, my means of supporting myself and my daughter was threatened. My sense of safety was threatened. My sense of belonging - so tenuous back then, so fragile - was obliterated.

And if this was the only problem, it would just be an anecdote about a bad boss, about a single experience... but there's nothing singular about it.

Girls and women are taught from an early age that "no" is not the right answer. "No" often leads to breakups, angry bosses or firings, fraught relationships. No is seen as an offense to the system, mostly (but not always) comprised of men making the rules, or women behaving as the successful men before them.

And.... punchline, please: I AM OVER IT.

When men say no, they are seen as powerful players in the system, and when women say no they are seen as noncompliant.

So - noncompliance, it is.

I'm trying to teach my daughter by showing her my life and being open about it, and I'm trying to teach my students, and I'm trying to teach myself, that "no" is okay even when it leads to startled expressions, angry words, disappointment, or other consequences.

And I'm tired of the exhaustion of explaining myself when others behave badly.

I'm getting better at saying no, but I've got to say, it's not easy or without consequence. That old boss didn't fire me, but I walked on eggshells of fear for the rest of my tenure there. Saying no to what was unhealthy in my marriage ended my marriage. I have lost friendships.

But I've gained so much more than I've lost when I've had the courage to speak. It is risky, speaking the truth to say "NO!" but there are rewards, too. No, I will not take on that extra project without pay or promotion. No, I do not agree with your idea and won't pretend that I do. No, I will not contort myself into a pretzel shape to please you. No, I won't own your behavior. No, I won't. No.

Instead, I'm saying yes to myself. Yes to my integrity. Yes to my worth. Yes to choosing how to spend my time. Yes to believing that my voice is just as important as anyone else's. Yes to walking away from what doesn't serve me, isn't true. Yes to valuing my time, my body, my words, my truth.

Not everyone likes it, but their responses don't scare me as much as they used to. I've found that direct eye contact, waiting for them to explain themselves when they protest, does wonders. 

No, thank you. I'm not mad, I'm not protesting, I'm not arguing. I'm just saying... no.

If you think this is easy, then you are probably not a woman of my generation. But if you're learning how to say no, also, then you're also feeling how ridiculously good it is. It gets easier with practice, and the world hasn't imploded because I stopped trying to please everyone around me.

Progress!