THE NO’S WE DIDN’T SAY
Little Things That Become Big Things
We always have more to unpack than we realize.
My husband and I just bought a house, and we are in the process of moving. Typically I wait until the last minute to pack. It’s always an all-nighter, there are always tears, and there are always fights. This is just one of the many joys I bring to this world.
So because we’re making “grown up” decisions about things like homeowner’s insurance and interest rates, I figured I better try something “grown up” and get packing ahead of time.
Hesitant in case things fell through, I began with the less-than-essential items: the winter clothes, the superfluous decorations, the books. I was making fantastic progress and was convinced (therefore telling everyone) there really wasn’t that much to pack. But as we all know, eventually we get to that part in packing where all we have are a “few” little things left. And that’s when we seem to fill a never-ending load of annoying odds and ends boxes. The little things add up and become the big things.
Packing an apartment is a lot like unpacking what happened to us.
UNPACKING WHAT HAPPENED
When I started with my current therapist, I showed up like an “ideal” (read as nightmare) client. I delivered my story “in full,” gave her a sweeping overview of my family of origin, the main pain points, exactly what I needed to process about my sexual assault and exactly how I needed to do so. There were just a few straggler tensions that needed tidying up; namely tiny little things like the character of God and my crushing need to make sure I don’t upset anyone.
Like I said, not much to unpack.
She was kind and humored me, but also convinced me to walk her through just a few things, in the unlikely case I had missed something.
Like I said, we always have more to unpack than we realize.
You see, the trauma of being sexually assaulted didn’t stand on its own. There were a series of events and ingrained beliefs that primed me to ignore glaring red flags and to assume dangerous behavior was nothing to be concerned about. What happened to me was not my fault, but we do ourselves and others a dramatic disservice by not objectively considering the factors that contribute to rape culture.
SAYING NO TO NO
“No” had been conditioned out of me for decades. “No” led to disconnection, it was disrespectful, it upset the peace and upset others. It was needlessly harsh and dramatic. It’s always easier to grin and bear it; people like those who don’t make a big deal of things.
I became so accustomed to my “no” being needless, powerless and devoid of value. When I mustered up a few no’s here and there, it didn’t bother me or register as a red flag that they were dismissed. Every now and then an ignored “no” would make me silently and covertly grind my teeth. But that was just about all, because tragically I was given no game plan for what to do when my no was ignored.
So what were the experiences that taught me to say no to “no”?
I grew up in evangelical Christian circles where women’s voices were not respected like men’s- they had the final say. I absorbed the teachings that men wanted sex, women didn’t. As women we would just have to deal with this and make ourselves available for sex whenever and however. If we denied our husbands this access to us, they would experience debilitating physical pain and therefore find relief elsewhere. (No one mentioned that being forced into sex might have its own elements of physical pain as well).
Hospitality was a perfect job for me. It was yet another sphere where “no” was not allowed. The customer (usually the man footing the bill) is always right. The answer is never “no.” If we can’t do something, there is always something different, better even, that we can offer. If we leave it at “no,” it is within the customer’s right to withhold their tip or report us to the manager. “No,” even if completely reasonable, can always result in punishment.
So as it happens, when I was in a situation with a dangerous person, the “no” I had learned to swallow my whole life already felt scary and foreign. All of a sudden after not being allowed to say no to small things in inconsequential situations, I was expected to say no to big things in an actually dangerous situation. Tell me how that makes sense or is fair.
IT ADDS UP
As you would expect, I minimized and avoided saying “no” for as much of the dangerous interaction as possible. With each disregarded no, the situation escalated. And this is how we end up in over our heads, ill equipped and futilely watching our boundaries get kicked around.
A lifetime of experiences taught me it was no biggie when I declined another drink, but was given one anyway.
A lifetime of experiences taught me it would be disrespectful not to be “thankful” for this “gift,” and upsetting if I wasted it.
A lifetime of experiences taught me it was normal, charming even, that he bullied me out of staying with my friends.
You see it’s the little things that add up and become the big things.
Dismissing “no’s” with customers, with authorities, with God- these are the subtle little “no’s” that wear us down little by little, and make the big “no’s” feel impossible. On their own, they might not be a big deal, but stacked on top of a mountain of the other “no’s” we never said, they bear an impossible weight.
Everything has taught you “no” will lead to disconnection, fights, unsafety, disrupted peace.
True. But so will “yes.”
Not all “no’s” are bad, not all “yeses” are good. Protective “no’s” make room for empowered “yeses.”
I say this from the vantage of “‘No’ Puberty.” My voice cracks, I trip over my suddenly larger feet and haven’t quite figured out what works for these weird new hips.
“No” still feels clunky for me. I still would much rather eat food I’m allergic to than tell someone “No.” But I’m practicing and letting instances like that teach me “no” is actually the safest word I have.
Again, it’s the little things. We start with the less-than-essential no’s and watch them build over time. Give yourself credit when you said no to a few small things today. It might not feel like much, but it adds up.
And this is how we take back power we didn’t realize we had.
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