Do Yourself an Important Favor and Say “No”
By: C. M. Barrett
Tags: Avoidance, Boundaries, Self, Self Esteem, Honesty

Do Yourself an Important Favor and Say “No”

It’s saying “Yes” to yourself.

Image by Jefty Matricio from Pixabay

In a childhood phase known as “The Terrible Twos,” kids learn the joy of saying, “No.” They will say “No” to anything and enjoy how this torments their parents.

For a while.

The shocked parent regains his/her sense of who’s the boss and teaches the child the dangers of saying, “No.” Some kids learn, some don’t. I did — meaning that I learned that saying “No” led directly to punishment and possibly (probably) a spanking.

However, my mother made a confusing role model. Though she insisted on obedience, she, being a born rebel, didn’t practice it. “Do as I say and not as I do” never impresses kids.

Her habit of frequently saying, “I’m not going to take that” showed me that to resist what was unfair deserved admiration. Because I wanted her to admire me, I sometimes said “No” to her. Even though she got angry, I also heard her tell my grandmother that I was as stubborn as others in the family — and she said it with affection.

I didn’t push my luck, though, because this would have meant going against another of my mother’s rules.

“I’m Sorry”

She believed that apologizing for mistakes, misdeeds, and unknowing unkindness was polite and therefore necessary. I heard “Say you’re sorry” a lot.

While I learned to honestly apologize (sometimes), my training also taught me how to practice manipulation with the “I’m sorry” phrase.

Insincere Apologies

Consider the apology that isn’t really an apology. As a small child, I figured out strategies to avoid being the recipient of my mother’s easily-ignited temper. That temper was a force of nature, like hurricanes and snowstorms. If I figured out ways to lie low, it would pass.

While saying “No” accelerated the stormy weather, saying “I’m sorry” sometimes had the power to dissipate it.

I’m sorry.

I’m really sorry.

Subtext:

Will you forgive me?

Can I raise my head yet?

The Further Dangers of Saying “No”

Saying “I’m sorry” was easier than negotiating the pitfalls of saying “No.” What I left out of the decision about which to say was authenticity. I didn’t understand that saying “No” could express a core value related to integrity. That was probably because I focused on the core value of survival.

Maturing meant developing an independent sense of self. When I got my first job as a teenaged nurse’s aide in a hospital rehab unit, I thought being employed meant that I had the right to opinions and to be treated as equal to other adults.

I soon discovered the danger of this kind of thinking.

“Don’t Say ‘No’ to Me.

One day my head nurse, whom I’ll call Nurse Smith, assigned me to work on another floor. The head nurse of that floor, Nurse Jones, told me to give a shower to a patient, a very heavy and semi-paralyzed woman.

“She’s going to say she can’t pivot from the wheelchair to the shower chair, but she can do it on her good leg. She just doesn’t want to.”

The message was clear: Shower her or else.

Had I been more experienced, I might have asked for another aide to assist in this task. I might have, when the woman, as predicted, said she couldn’t do it, have gone back to Nurse Jones. Instead, when the patient said she couldn’t move, I tried to pivot her, and she pivoted on top of me.

I lay on the wet shower floor, immobilized, and wished with all my heart that I’d said “No.”

Nurse Jones blamed me for the incident. Had all things been equal, it would have been my fault. However, I was an inexperienced aide who’d been impressed with the importance of doing what the head nurse said.

The Consequences

Though I knew she had treated me unfairly, I felt ashamed about my failure to say no, and I didn’t tell anyone what had happened. The following morning, Nurse Smith told me to return to that floor. I decided that I wasn’t going to put myself in another impossible and perhaps dangerous situation. This decision had a subtext: I wasn’t going to be forced to do something I knew was wrong.

I said, “No.”

Instead of giving me a chance to explain my refusal, Nurse Smith sent me to the director of nursing, to whom I told my story.

She may have seen the justice of my explanation because I didn’t get fired, but when I returned to my floor, Nurse Smith said, “You must never say ‘No’ to me.” She added that if I’d acted apologetic, if I’d said, “I’m sorry, but I have a problem,” she would have listened to me. I’d made the mistake of being assertive to a dictator.

No More “No”s

I learned that when faced with someone in charge who took herself seriously, I would serve my best interests by saying, “Yes.” Integrity seemed to be a luxury I couldn’t afford.

This doesn’t mean I behaved in a docile manner; instead, I improved on my repertoire of manipulative ways to avoid saying “No.” These included excuses, avoiding the issue, and, on occasion, lying. I most often defaulted to the proven success of saying “I’m sorry.”

I’m Sorry, But . . .

Over the years, I got very crafty in using apology as a weapon. I wielded it with deliberation and skill.

Sometimes I would say “No” and even “Hell, no,” but often I didn’t. I used “I’m sorry” as a diversionary tactic that suggested I was a nice person who didn’t want to make a problem, but . . .

While my opponent focused on my feigned apology, I went on the offensive.

I’m sorry, but I don’t think that’s true.

I’m sorry, but I kind of don’t like that restaurant.

I’m sorry, but this thing you sent me isn’t very good. Do you think I could return it?

Deception is Wearying

I discovered that apologizing for myself ate away at a sense of integrity that was becoming more important to me. I didn’t want to say “I’m sorry” when I wasn’t.

Yet I also didn’t want to be harsh. The service person on the phone whom I was telling I wanted to return something didn’t personally manufacture the second-rate item I didn’t want.

The habit that derailed me was feeling that I had to either act extremely aggressively or submissively. I couldn’t find a middle way, and I decided that had to change.

I made small changes. Not saying I was sorry when I wasn’t built up my sense of integrity. I learned that “No” could be said politely and even respectfully, when necessary, but sometimes it had to be said.

I became firm. I set my boundaries. I could regret a conflict without blaming it on myself.

Saying “No” has taught me to define myself and my values. This act increases my self-respect, and that helps me to respect others and the choices they make.

I think my mother would understand.