my mother has gone through a remarkable transformation since she became a widow more than a year ago. She has a new mantra, which is: “I’d rather not.” I think she may have seen it on an embroidery meme. Whatever its origin, I found it inspiring, and I think it can be a key lesson in building a better life.
I’ve changed the details of this story, but kept the gist: let’s say she was recently invited by one of our mutual friends to join a book group, but she didn’t want to go. Rather than receiving monthly invitations to attend something she had no desire to go to, and having to come up with a different excuse each time, or worse, go, she simply delivered her mantra: “I’d rather not.”
I was quite amazed to discover this. I felt the kind of shock I felt when I discovered the different flavors of KitKat they sell in Japan and thought, “God, I didn’t realize they could make chocolate that color.” It was particularly disturbing to hear because when my mother told me her reaction, I had already responded to the same invitation with, “Oh yes, thank you very much. I would love that.” It didn’t occur to me that decline was a possibility.
I’m at the point in my life where I don’t have the time or energy to read my post, let alone a book, and when a night out feels very precious and would ideally be spent with my husband or with a dear friend. So I was forced to ask myself, why on earth did I say yes?
Well, I’ve thought about it a lot and I think I understand something about what happened. It’s telling that I didn’t even consider saying no, even though I knew right away that I really didn’t want to say yes.
I believe that at that moment I felt I had no choice: someone asked me to do something, and I believed that their desire for me to do that thing was more important than my desire not to do it not.
We are told from childhood that we are not supposed to be selfish – girls more than boys, and mothers more than anyone, but all of us experience this pressure from society. What we are less aware of is the pressure from within, this instinct that many of us have that our own needs and desires are things to be ignored, neglected and silenced. We call it people pleasing, but I don’t think that’s quite right. Yes, the result is that we please other people, but this is a very superficial analysis of what is really going on; this is not necessarily where the compulsion originates. The compulsion can arise in the silencing and starving of our own needs and wishes.
To build a better life, a certain amount of selfishness, of prioritizing your wants and needs over others, is necessary. Not all the time, not in every circumstance, but enough of the time and in enough of the circumstances that matter most to you. I’m not suggesting abdicating all responsibility, or being unnecessarily cruel, but part of growing up and becoming your own person involves discovering your own desires and priorities and ensuring that you live the life you want you want to live, rather than the life others want you to live. Doing so means sometimes putting your own feelings before other people’s and knowing why you do it, and admitting that it can hurt those you love.
Maybe that’s also part of why it’s so hard to say no; we don’t want to hurt the ones we love. We don’t want to cause them pain, or anger, or frustration. As if that pain, anger and frustration are unbearable. As if these feelings aren’t an important part of life – just as meaningful and worthwhile as joy or love, even though they may be far less popular.
This is something I struggle with every day as a mother. Because while I find it hard to say no, I also know that a child who is never told no is deprived of the opportunity to learn that being told no is a tolerable, survivable and often useful experience is. If I, as a parent, am so afraid of my child’s pain, my child may experience their emotions as overwhelming, scary things to be avoided at all costs – as something she needs to be protected from, rather than feeling vital.
Not long after the book group incident, I was asked by a friend to do them a favor, and I almost said yes. But I caught myself, I thought about it, and I realized I’d rather not, and I don’t have time.* So I said no. And it felt great.
* I had a lot of reading to do for book club.
