How to say no
Communicating our decisions in a society that expects us to please.
No one wanted to be the class parent for my daughter’s pre-k class this year. The class consists of mostly younger siblings, so the general lack of enthusiasm isn’t a complete surprise. We’ve all kind of done our time and have one foot in the elementary school pond. But that’s neither here nor there.
When the email came out that they still needed volunteers for our class, I knew a targeted text message to me wouldn’t be far behind. And it wasn’t. Nor was the next one, a day later.
I sit on the board of directors of the community center where my daughter attends school. Some of the lay leaders, volunteers, and even the staff are my close friends. Of course I’d be asked to help out when people are in a bind. There’s probably an expectation that someone in my shoes would agree even if I don’t want to, or don’t have the time. I understand that and fault no one for asking.
But I said no, if you’re wondering. In case the title didn’t give it away.
I felt guilty about it. I did. And I bet that guilt came through in my defensive replies, which flowed freely in texting with friends. And yet, the guilt doesn’t outweigh the angst I’d feel in assuming the responsibility at a time when I have to focus. I’ve already committed myself beyond my own comfort level and have to recenter around my goals that matter most.
What’s difficult is that I love saying yes; not just to volunteering but to plans, business opportunities, even favors. A lawyer I once worked for retrained my brain to be facilitative instead of preclusive. I learned how to support in-house business leaders in ways that moved everyone forward instead of holding them at the starting line (the way everyone thinks the lawyers will). Helping out feels nice, too. My mom always told me that if you’re going to complain about something, you better be ready to roll up your sleeves and do it better. I’ve taken that to heart and thrown myself into all sorts of projects and hijinks over the years. I’ve been humbled, I’ve had fun, and almost every yes gifts me a lesson in return.
But also, no is a valid response. We are allowed to use it whenever we want.
Without getting scientific, I can think of a couple reasons why women have a difficult time saying no. Certainly, there are cultural norms and generational patterns that root many of us in a defaulting place of acquiescence. I was once like that. As an adult, I worked hard to break through that lack of curiosity and find greater agency over my decisions, rather than letting superiors and peers influence everything I did.
Many of the most driven, independent women I know say yes for the challenge. We like to prove to ourselves and others that beliefs about us are too limited. We say yes as an outward declaration of our capabilities—not as an attempt to people please. For us, saying no feels synonymous with, I can’t. And that’s not a word I like to use, either.
But no matter what drives you, you must be able to say no for the stability that healthy boundaries create. This rings true even when it’s hard; even when you feel awkward about it. Here are some suggestions to make this short word most meaningful.
Express thanks. Someone asked something of you, because they believe you are the right person for the job, or because they want to spend time with you. You’re the one that’s been asked. Thank people for thinking of you. (I’m usually great at this, but I failed this time around. Sorry, y’all.)
Add color when you can. If you have specific reasons for saying no, state them. You don’t need to deliver a five-minute soliloquy, but shedding light on your thought process carries weight. Lean on the facts and follow with emotion—not the other way around.
You don’t have to, though. Outside of a workplace request, you don’t really owe anyone a deeper explanation if you don’t want to provide one. I have a friend who’s good at this. She’ll just be like, “I’m not interested, but I’m glad you asked. Let’s connect soon!” This might not be the diatribe you’re used to receiving, but let me tell you, it’s highly effective and alleviates a lot of pressure from the interaction.
Outline the alternative. I just finished a super interesting book that explored the concept of brutal honesty. If you feel like saying yes would produce an undesirable outcome for them or for you, maybe share that, tactfully. For example, I know that the role of class parent requires attending monthly night meetings. I’m already cutting back on night meetings to free up time to work. If I flaked on these meetings, which I absolutely would, I’d be a terrible liaison to the other families. That’s the primary function of the role, and it would do everyone else a disservice for me to accept it. It’s hard to argue with someone who understands the assignment. Brutal honesty works under the right conditions.
Be decisive. Don’t ruminate over your reply if you already know the answer. I speak with so many friends who lament about whether to do something that they really don’t want to, and they stall, and ask questions, and stall some more. Don’t ask for more information unless you’re actively considering it. You’ll either seem wishy washy or give the impression that whatever additional information you received was the deciding factor not to do it. Don’t ghost people, either. You’re an adult.
Leave the door open. Offer to reconnect on the next plan or project a couple months later. If you can suggest a strategy to implement or know another person who might be able to help out now, make that introduction. Take that extra step. In the world of volunteerism, I love the idea of Done in a Day committees as a way to stay engaged in without signing a blood oath of your time.
There are way to say yes, even in saying no.
Do you struggle with saying no? Let me know! (I’m a poet now): averagejoelle3@gmail.com.
The little things
We’ve never vacationed with another family before but just had the greatest week away with our friends in Avalon, New Jersey. The kids entertained each other, the house we rented had everything we needed, and the beach days were slow and fulfilling. I’d go as far as to say I relaxed, which I’ve never said about any vacation with my children. 10/10, no notes. Except for our buddy, William The Seagull, who pooped on Hazel and pecked at her sandwich. Rude, William, rude.
Also
I read:
#TradWife Life as Self-Annihilation – Culture Study
I Wanted to Teach My Daughter Bodily Autonomy. Motherhood Taught Me to Value My Own. – Elle, excerpting Amanda Montei’s new book, Touched Out
We launched:
Our brand-new newsletter, The Joint Account, to help couples talk about money. We’re really going there – nothing will be too icky to cover. This week, I wrote about hitting the pause button on our search for a forever home. Check it out and subscribe!
I cooked:
As I’ve written here, I love to cook. This week, I made some simple meals to get us back into our routine. I’m a big proponent of making what I have and wasting as little food as possible. Follow along on Instagram for my no-frills, low-effort dishes. I have them saved in my highlights as “Cookins.”
Your wins
She’s not one to brag, but my friend Rachel just hit 500 classes at her local gym. This boss lady and amazing mom gets it done at 5am every morning before commuting into the city for work. She deserves to be celebrated!
Always love reading your stuff. “No is a complete sentence.”