First, I gotta be honest with y’all. I am by no means an expert at saying “No.” It almost pains me to form the two letters that go into the word. So how about if we have a cup of iced coffee and chat about it? Yes, I am drinking iced coffee right now. It’s hot as hell where I live.
One time, I was hanging out with a friend, and when I complained how stuck I felt in a toxic relationship and couldn’t say no, she glared at me and snapped, “No is a sentence.”
I sighed and messed around with the button on my shirt. “One word sentence?”
“One word. No. Nothing else. No explanations, qualifiers, apologies or chances for the ‘no’ to change to a ‘yes.’”
I shifted around and fidgeted. “Just ‘no?’”
She winked at me. “Yes.”
It still isn’t easy for me to begin and end a sentence with “No,” unless I am talking to one of my children. By training, I avoid unpleasant situations, and if I don’t respect someone or fear they are abusive, I won’t keep saying “No.” I will say or write it once and then walk away.
This morning, a few of my friends were talking about how hard it is to say “No.” One woman mentioned that the last time she said “No” at work, it backfired. She lost her job.
This got me thinking: is it impossible to say “No” at work? To answer this question, I thought back to my legal career. Specifically, I recalled a few times I did or did not say “No” and how it worked out for me. The results were mixed, but I don’t regret any of the times I said “No.”
The first time I should have said “No” was when I was a first-year associate at a dimly lit, dingy, mid-sized rat house of a litigation boutique. I was ashamed of this job, for more reasons than the crappy paycheck. In one of my first days on the job, this redheaded beast of a partner insulted me in a way that epitomizes “sexual harassment,” and I froze like a deer in the headlights. I simply wasn’t prepared to draw any protective boundaries that hot summer afternoon. I smiled an uncomfortable smile and walked back to my desk, insecure and unsure of myself.
Several months later, the Senior Partner called me into his office and asked me to sit in on a deposition. Midway through it, I wanted to run out of the room and vomit, because I realized we were defending a drunk driver who admitted responsibility for injuring the plaintiff. I made it through the deposition without losing my breakfast, and an hour later, I sat in the Senior Partner’s office. He said to me, “I want you to work up this case. It will be good experience for you.”
I stared at him with indignation, shock and disgust, and I walked back to my office and wrote my resignation letter. In that letter, I told the Senior Partner about the sexual harassment. And I told him I didn’t go to law school to defend drunk drivers. As I drove out of the parking lot that afternoon, I glimpsed a welcome sight: the senior partner was chewing out the redheaded, sexually inappropriate douchebag. It was his last day at the firm too.
Fast forward a few years. Now I am a fifth-year associate earning a six-figure salary. I have a lot to lose. The partner I report to is a skinny, well-connected, hard-working, junior partner who has gotten ahead by getting along, and he asks me to do something unscrupulous with a document we’ve been ordered to produce. As an attorney, I am bound by a Code of Ethics, and if I violate that Code, I could be disbarred, and my law firm could be sanctioned.
When I get home from work that night, I agonize over the conundrum I’m in. If I refuse to withhold the document, I could get blackballed at the firm, and no longer trusted with assignments. I could be fired. But if I violate my principles, I could lose my license to practice law. Worse, I could lose my self-respect.
When I woke up the next morning, I spent a few hours drafting a tactful memorandum in which I outlined the risks of withholding the document and sent it to the partner who had suggested I lose the document. I didn’t refuse to destroy it. I didn’t scream, “No,” but in a very careful way, I showed him why it wasn’t prudent to withhold it. After all, I explained, it is not prudent to run afoul of the state bar’s ethics. And as the supervising attorney, he would be the one who would get crucified.
We produced the document. But from then on, the deal partner stopped assigning me work, not in an obvious way. Bit by bit, case by case, less work came my way. Regrets? No, none. It isn’t necessary to scream and make a scene when you draw a boundary. There are as many ways to say “No” as there are ways to fashion a boundary that protects you from the dangers that intrude on your safety and your peace of mind.
So, dear readers, how hard is it for you to say “No?” Is it easier or harder to say “No” in a professional setting than it is in social situations?
***Note: It is with a grin that I include Al Pacino pictures from The Devil’s Advocate, but my experience practicing law often reminded me of this fine movie. It’s not that I worked for terrible people, but I often wrestled with my conscience as if I were tempted by demons or the devil to do the wrong thing.
I, too, was taught that “No” is a sentence. I don’t have to explain why, no kicking the ground or little white lies. I love the freedom that sentence affords me. Being heavily involved in service work, I sometimes find it difficult to say “No.” But if I over extend myself, I’m no good to anyone. I admire you even more knowing that you won’t cross those boundaries set by the Law. You may be getting less work from the jacka@@ but it frees up time for you to work on your book. And that Karma stuff, let’s just say she will reward you for doing the right thing!
I also love the freedom and the simplicity of this word, Patricia! And I can see how it would be necessary in the service profession!
Thank you re the legal boundaries comment. I cannot say I miss practicing law!!
My father-in-law recently told me that “no” was the shortest and easiest sentence to say in the English language. He might be right, but I still struggle with saying it. I have to say I have regretted saying yes much more often than I have regretted saying no, even when the no blew up in my face and ended badly. Sometime it’s hard to set the boundaries, but once you do life is so much easier.
I still struggle with it too, Lily. I am grinning at what your FIL said . . . and nodding about not regretting saying No. The funny thing about how hard it is to say No is that it often makes our lives easier in the long run!
Thank you for stopping in!
No was the hardest sentence ever for me to learn, professionally and personally. That is until I went to work for a Defense Contractor. They were without doubt the most unethical, despicable and filthy organization I had ever had the displeasure to work for. They made unethical business practice sound like a High Mass. I was doomed from my first day on the job when my boss, the Sr. Vice President of the Division came into my newly assigned bright and shiny corner office took one look at my wedding picture and said “is that your wedding picture?”
I was hired to transform their organization so they could retain a contract with the Army. It was an important IT contract. It was worth $200M over 7 years. To transform them they had to hire new people. They had to change their operations. They had to invest in training. They had to change some of their vendors. They had to make real changes. They didn’t really want to do this they just wanted me to say they had during Q&A at the DoD. I had to be approved by Generals and vetted by the IT PMO for this and other projects.
I had ethics before my hiring. I took this job because I had friends and family who were active duty in the Army and other branches of the military. I cared. The outcome of this project meant live could be saved on the battlefield and the lives of soldiers could be improved.
They asked me to lie. They asked me to lie to the Army. They asked me to withhold critical information and documents. They asked me to lie on Status reports. They wrote an SOW that was simply incorrect but the Army would have never caught the problem. They were in collusion with two other vendors.
I blew the whistle. I went to my organization first and gave them the opportunity to fix the problem they told me to sit down and shut up. I blew the whistle. I simply picked up the phone and called the Army Administrative negotiator and over a drink I told him everything.
My nerves were shot, I checked myself into the hospital for 72 hours of rest.
My industry breeds unethical. I have lost jobs for my refusal to stand down. I am okay with that. I would rather stand up than ever be beaten down again to the point I can’t live with myself.
Val:
Amen to being okay with losing jobs for the right reason.
OMG, that’s an incredible story! What happened after you blew the whistle? Did the contractor lose the contract after all of that?
I love what you said here: “My industry breeds unethical.” Same is true for big law firm practice in FAR too many cases, especially since it’s become more of a business than a profession.
xoxo
El
They did not lose the contract. In fact 10 years later and from what I hear from friends still working on this and other projects close to this one these are the statistics (your tax dollars at work).
$180,000,000+ spent, this includes software that isn’t used, white papers written by people with no experience or knowledge in the specific areas they were writing about, IV&V contracts awarded to organizations that were owned by the Prime Contractors and led by retired Colonels and Generals who signed the original contracts, Hardware that wasn’t required and is now outdated.
Nothing is live, meaning none of the effort that was put into this project has ever seen the light of day. There are some good people involved who have tried to cut through the nonsense. They have failed, they continue to try.
When I left they hired someone far more complacent to take my place.
Most of the SOW problems were addressed but a secondary contract was written when the Colonel was transferred from the PMO and his civilian aide took retirement. The Colonel retired 18 months later when he was told he would not make General.
The Defense Contractor I worked for had three retired Generals on the board and our division President was also a Retired General. Makes you wonder doesn’t it.
One of my friends called the other day and asked if I would come back to the DoD as a private contractor in the Executive PMO. I fell out of my chair laughing.
NO
I have no trouble saying no but it usually comes with apologies and explanations. I’m not sure if the explanations are for those to whom I am saying no of for my own validation purposes. Such is the story of my life. Strong, firm, sure…and contrite. Is that okay?
Hi Kelly!! Ah, so you are a repentant boundary-creator? I’m chuckling, in sympathy. I’d say there is some major guilt going on there and/or validation efforts? xoxo
I didnt say no for a couple of years. I mentioned something to my boss. The many months after that were hell. As soon as I removed myself from certain situtions I was fired. Now I am in recovery mode for myself. Yes a lonely road yet one that I should have taken yrs ago. O well moving on at a snails pace. But im moving on & growing each day in recovery & release mode.
Good on you, Lt, for doing the right thing. I’m so sorry that the result (predictably enough) is to make your life more difficult, but here’s hoping to easier days ahead. These things can take time to recover from, but at least you can hold your head high!!
Thank you so much for commenting!
Excellent post about something everyone faces.
Thank you so much Rebecca! Good to see you here!
El, I’m so glad you said no in all of these instances, and wish I could say with certainly I would have had the strength to do the same. (And SO glad there was a happy ending re: that red-headed d-bag.) I’m really not sure if I would have, though.
I have an impossible time saying no, except to my mom and husband, because they’re the only people I believe love me unconditionally.
Thank you so much Jules! I don’t judge people who cannot say no in job situations. It seems clear when we’re single and don’t have a monster mortgage, but I am sympathetic to the single parent with no other means of supporting their kids, you know?
Aw, I hear you. The saying no muscles tend to atrophy unless used regularly!
xoxo
Love your posts, El. You always speak straight to my squishy heart.
Strengthening my no muscle has been a huge part of my learning to thrive more and struggle less. I used to feel obligated to hang out with friends I had little in common with, and stick with work/projects my heart wasn’t in because I felt I “should.” I think we should all practice saying ‘no’ every darn day. I wrote a post on how important it is for writers to say ‘no’ a while back… I think it’s important for everyone, but even more so for creative types.
August: you make me grin. Thank you so much my friend. And the cool thing about strengthening our No muscle is that, like other muscles, once exercised, they get stronger and stronger! xo
I used to have a much harder time with this than at this point in my life (like teens, 20′s, and early 30′s, ha!). I suppose it’s the experience of life itself, and being willing to learn from our mistakes, that allows us to feel the confidence in exercising our rights, including the one to say “no” in any situation that warrants it. For me, it’s been most critical in not over-extending myself. Being that single parent, I’ve had to learn that my time at home is so precious that saying “yes” to everything I’m asked to do outside of the home is a huge mistake. No more guilt-trips over needing to take a break, no more agonizing over how the world won’t turn if I don’t push it, LOL, at least, for a little while
. XOXO-SWM
Good to see you here Kasey! Saying “No” has been getting much easier, but I often slip into avoidance (my habit). You know, you make a great point about priorities. Now that I have three kids, it is so much easier to say, “Sorry, but I’m spending time with my family.” It really helps me with boundary setting! xoxo
I learned to say no at my workplace the hard way. People kept on taking advantage of me because I was always so kind and helpful, well, it had to stop because I ended up doing someone else’s job + mine and no raise. So, I had to stop. Sometimes one has to put their foot down. By the way, Susie sent me.
Welcome!! Any friend of Susie’s is a friend of mine!
Ah, yes–so many of us have been too nice until, well, we had to stop–I so understand that!! Good on you for putting your foot down (and not kicking a head or two with it, giggle)!