Have you ever agreed to do something you didn’t want to do when you knew you should have simply said no?
I have — more times than I can count
My heart starts to pound, my palms sweat, and I spend the rest of the day (or week, or month) stressing about it. I get mad, I get resentful, and I waste a lot of time and energy thinking about what I’ve just done.
I once had a boss who was describing me to a new coworker. I could hear him from the break room, but he didn’t know it. After he told him what I did and my role at the company, he added, “She’s nice. Like, nice to a fault. If you ask her to do something, she’ll do it.”
Wow.
That was hard to hear even though I knew that about myself
That was almost 20 years ago — I was a single, career-driven woman in my 20s who worked hard. But I was also afraid of saying no and speaking up for what I wanted.
I knew it stemmed from childhood. My father used to get really upset if we disagreed with something, corrected him, or even asked for more butter at a restaurant. I grew up thinking you got what you got and you never asked for more because it was annoying and rude.
I used to marvel at my girlfriends in high school
They weren't afraid to ask the waitress for extra grated parmesan cheese or send a meal back if it wasn’t good.
My college girlfriends never had trouble asking me to borrow some of my clothes, yet I was always too nervous to ask them.
They helped me grow out of that fear, and I began getting slightly more comfortable asking for things — but not fully.
My go-to response when my meal was cold, or was not what I ordered, or if someone asked something of me that I didn't want to do: “It’s fine. I can deal with it.”
If you're the nice one, you know what I mean
I know it’s my fault. I know I am capable of not being the nice one all the time, and I’ve worked hard to combat my people-pleasing ways. I’m doing a pretty good job, but I still feel myself clam up when my boyfriend asks for extra cheese on his garlic bread, or for his wings to be run through the fryer twice.
Nice people get taken advantage of, there’s no question about that. And I don’t want my kids growing up afraid to speak up and ask for they want. Nor do I want them to feel like they have to say yes when their body is screaming no.
I can’t have those hopes for them if they see me as a person who's “nice to a fault.” Let’s face it — even kids sense when you're a pushover.
Old habits are really hard to break, and I'm constantly fighting with myself, screaming inside, “Speak up! You didn’t order this,” or “Tell him you don’t like how that feels” when I’m having sexy time.
Being the nice one definitely has its burdens. I don’t want to be known as just being nice. I want people to think of me as someone who won’t take any BS. Contrary to my younger self, I now know you can actually be both. And that's something I'll forever be working on.
