When Women Claim "No"

I don't know if it's just me or if everyone feels the same way, but there are things that you hear that can feel exactly like a physical blow, like a shot to the solar plexus. One time I was at work, puttering away on some project or other (I'm an HR person) when one of my friends popped into my office. "I'm on the fence," she said. "What fence?" I asked. "I heard something and I can't decide whether to tell you about it, or not," she said. "That's the weeniest disclosure ever," I laughed. "Now you have to tell me."

Here's what she said. "At the sales meeting, I wasn't there on account of not being in sales, but two people told me the same story verbatim so I believe them," she started. "The VP of Sales was going on about something, and someone said 'That thing you just suggested, I don't think we can do that, it's against the HR policy' and the VP of Sales said 'No problem, I have Liz Ryan wrapped around my finger.' He said it in front of the whole sales department, like 100 people."

The funniest thing happened to me. Like someone had poured ice water over my head, a freezing-cold feeling went down from my shoulders to my toes. I laughed. "Okay, then," I said. "Duly freaking noted." They talk about adrenaline coursing through your veins -- that was the story. The guy told the whole team that he owned me. Bad on me, I thought we were friends, and I remembered voting in opposition to him on a few things or debating him on non-standard things he wanted to do that were also in my opinion stupid or unfair. His view was that he ruled me. No problem.

I went right into the limbic nerve. "Just wait until the next time he brings an issue to me," I thought. A second later I thought "God, that's so unevolved of me," but the adrenaline was still coursing. We don't go out and hunt caribou or whatever the hell animals roamed the prairies anymore, avoiding wolves and hostile members of other tribes, I thought, but we're still wired the same old way. Attack is attack. Ha ha!

Another thought hit me. Had I ever listened to the VP's ideas and pitches with the thought "I should give him a break, since we have a great relationship and I want to keep it that way" in my mind? Undoubtedly I had. There may have even been a time -- I could think of two instances right off the bat -- when I had definitely had misgivings about one of the Sales VP's proposals, but had okayed it anyway, for the sake of harmony. We are pack animals; he saw those misgivings on my face and heard them in my voice. Yes, I had succumbed to Please-aholic behavior, there was no doubt about it. And the VP of Sales quite dramatically called me out on that. Thank you, universe, for your precious lessons!

I finally found the voice to go talk to the guy, a few days later. "That was the stupidest thing for me to say," he said. "I was over-excited, we were on a sales motivational roll, and I should have said 'Liz is reasonable, we'll figure something out.' Very bad choice of words." "How do you think it made me feel, to hear that?" I asked him. "The funny thing is, I think in my most reptilian brain behind my normal brain, I figured no one would believe me saying that about having you wrapped around my finger, because you're known for speaking your mind," he said.

I got a little vaccination that day, a reminder that you really don't have any choice except to say what you believe, all the time, at work and everywhere else. You can't make decisions in order to stay on someone's good side. You can't try to read the tea leaves and see what the prevailing opinion is. As you get older, you just can't do it. Your body won't let you, and whenever you try, you get horrendous results, like some off-priced boxed hair color that you try just to see whether you could get away with it.

You try to stay mum about the dysfunction in your book group, and your silence backfires; you start getting blamed for whatever isn't working. You paste on the plastic smile for the school-mom's meeting and pick up on an evil vibe from the fear-based people who run the thing. You can't hide your intention. Trust and fear are as real in the room as the table and the light fixtures. When you have a truth that has to come out, honey, you can't pretend otherwise very convincingly, and not for very long. Sometimes you have to say "No," and "Enough," and "I'm done," and "You people are crazy."

"No" is the stepping-stone word to your true voice, because it happens in milliseconds, in the clinch. If you can't bake another batch of brownies for the church social function without sacrificing something you're already short on (kid time or sleep or whatever) you can say "No, this time I can't." It is a soft word that helps you build toward more truth-telling in the future. It's essential. We have to claim the word "No" to get the rest of our truths out.

My eighteen-year-old daughter is very frank with me about how painfully difficult it is for her to say "No" to anyone about anything. She says "Mom, I almost physically can't do it. When I try, I feel like I need a huge excuse and rationale for it." I told her that as she hits her twenties, it'll be easier for her to smile a huge, warm smile and say "I wish I could! It's impossible, though." No explanation; whatever has been proposed just doesn't work.

"No" is the greatest word. It can be respectful. It can be warm. It can be well-advised and supportive (no, I won't finish your homework and no, I won't do your job-search networking for you). It can be completely without overtones about my esteem or respect for you or the state of our relationship. It can just be "No, that won't work; how about this other option?" We have to step into it. The universe does a great job of putting those opportunities in front of us. Some of us (like me) needed massive nudges from the universe to start to be comfortable with "No." Here is how that feels: balanced. It pleases my trusty gut when I say "No" sometimes, and that is one of the most satisfying feelings I know.