Practice Perspective

I had to laugh when I read this article that the NCBA sent out in its newsletter about how to say no after saying yes. It brought me right back to my early years in recovery (years before law school). 

One of the very first things my AA sponsor picked up on was my people pleasing. I said yes to absolutely every request—every service commitment, every committee position, every favor. I was too afraid of being rejected, too convinced I had to earn my seat. (More like justify my existence.) It’s very difficult to say no if you cannot feel/do not believe in your own inherent self-worth. Saying no felt like failure. Of course, I could not articulate any of this at the time. But my sponsor could see it. 

Early on she asked me, “Have you ever stopped to ask yourself what value this activity (that I knee-jerk committed to that was now stretching me too thin) will bring to your life?” I had not. That question was not part of my calculus. She knew I was so wholly incapable of saying no when on the spot, that she coached me from a different angle. 

She coached me to respond to every single request with, “I’m not sure. Let me check my calendar. I’ll get back with you.” (This was before the days of cell phones.) I practiced saying it out loud with her. She then encouraged me to respond with that refrain the next time I was approached about doing something. That would give me time to think about the specific request—and give her a call. 

Then, in follow-up conversation with her, she would ask me clarifying questions about the specific request: my underlying motivations, fears, hopes, values, etc. I was then in the position to make an informed decision about whether or not I actually wanted to say yes. If I decided I wanted to say no, she then had to coach me on how to say that. I learned, and it was revolutionary to me, that I did not have to give a big, long-winded explanation. I could simply say something like, “Oh, so sorry. I’m not available.” She also taught me that “plans” could include sitting at home watching TV or eating dinner by myself. That it was not a lie to say I had other plans, even if my plans were to stay home. This approach went so against the grain for me. It was incredibly difficult—at first. And then it got easier. And then even easier.

Today, some 30+ years later, like muscle memory, my first response is, “I’m not sure. I’ll get back with you.” While this muscle was well-developed by the time I went to law school, the professional pressure early in my career found me saying yes far too quickly and far too often. Resentment started to build. But as soon as I realized it, I knew exactly what to do. I’m so grateful to that wise woman for helping me learn to master the art of pausing long enough to not automatically say yes.

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