I got an email recently from a longtime listener, a woman in her seventies, who wrote to say she appreciates my focus on what’s beneficial, on saying yes to those aspects of life. And then she said something that’s stuck with me since. She wrote that it’s also really important to appreciate the value, not just of yes, but of no. For many, many women, she said, including women of her age, and women and girls in general, it’s really important to be able to say no, and to live it.
I grew up with loving, decent, really wonderful parents who were traditional, and no was not allowed to come out of the mouth of their three kids, including the oldest one, me. No, no, no was verboten. It was a big no. I recall exactly where I was when I made myself say it for the first time, at about age 22, to my father. It was about a fairly trivial thing. I set it up. I wrote notes to myself before talking with him on the phone, because it was easier to do it that way. And I said no to him. He paused. And then he rolled with it. It was not a big deal, but boy was that hard for me to do.
So if you come from a culture, or a family, where no, especially from certain people, was forbidden, there’s a cultural no wrapped around your individual no. Something in you was trained to block the authentic no from coming out. What can you do about that? Can you soften that inhibition? Can you risk the dreaded experience, and gradually push back the bars of your own invisible cage?
Your No Doesn’t Need Their Permission
How can you strengthen the sense of being on your own side, being a kind ally to yourself, who tells yourself, hey, your no is legitimate? Other people get to say no. They say no to you. You too have that right to say no. It’s okay. You can say no. Probably because if we have the right to say no, then our yes has more traction.
I still remember reading Miss Manners, who said that when you turn down an invitation, you do not need to give a reason. Sometimes it’s helpful to give context appropriately, but you’re not required to. My no does not require their consent. I’m not asking for their permission. I’m giving them the courtesy, or I’m giving myself the self-respect, of declaring for the record my reasons for the no, if I choose to.
Practicing It Somewhere Small
You don’t need to start with the hardest no in your life. It could be as direct as people saying, nope, I’m not going to do more than my fair share of the housework around here anymore. I’m on strike. I’m not going to. Or it might be quieter than that. I’m just not going to add that to the cup I’m really trying to empty, to create more space at this stage in my life for the things that matter, wilderness, deepening practice, time with the people I love.
Every No Is a Yes to Something
If I’m saying no to that, what is that saying yes to? If I’m saying no to killing over here, can I say yes to affirming life over there? If I’m saying no to stealing over here, can I say yes to generosity over there? Every no we make is, in effect, a yes to something else. That’s the yin and the yang of it, the two sides of one coin.
If you recognize yourself in that pause before saying no, or in the exhaustion of always being the one who says yes, I’d love to have you join the upcoming Setting Healthy Boundaries workshop. We’ll go deeper into what’s underneath the inhibition, how to build the capacity to say no without guilt or over-explaining, and how to hold a boundary with someone you love without losing the relationship. You can register here, and don’t forget to use code substack10 at checkout for 10% off.
The content in this article has been adapted from my spoken word.
I say "no."
I have a belligerent no and a gentle no. The belligerent no appears to be stronger, however, the belligerence is a compensation for underlying fear of saying no. The gentle no can be gentle because it is unafraid, secure, confident. The belligerent no is an effect of weakness; the gentle no is an effect of strength.