That's a No For Me

A colleague who had become a first-time mother once regaled me and other coworkers, during lunch, with the amazing exploits of her new baby. Like many new parents, each and every moment of her child’s first year seemed crystallized in her memory. We couldn’t help but be held in rapt attention by her tales. One particular detail of her storytelling has stayed with me now more than a decade later: She refused to use the word NO with her daughter. NO, she explained, restricts children’s creativity and curiosity. Instead, she and her partner chose other means to convey their intent to their toddler. This view is shared by various parenting authorities and commentators but lacks scientific support.

I have encountered, of late, a similar phenomenon with clients who find themselves stuck in mindsets that rob them of healthy relationships, personal enjoyment, and holistic wellness. Their mindsets typically involve overly simplistic ideas about their environments and peers, inflexible rules, fear of self-denial and an inability or refusal to admit the possibility that they might be in error. They are unable, or unwilling, to tell themselves “NO.”

Often, these rules and ideas are overgeneralizations of situation-specific experiences that, in absence of healthier discernment, have been canonized. I recall working with a client who had lost a couple of close friends in quick succession; some moved away and one passed away. She was understandably hurt by the loss of her loved ones. Regrettably, however, she concluded that the only way to avoid experiencing such hurt in the future was to never get close to anyone. For her the rule became, “get close, get hurt.”

Rules such as these are reinforced by an interplay of self-fulfilling prophecy and confirmation bias that blind the beholder to all that would otherwise negate their beliefs. When this client decided to keep everyone out, she also became more judgmental about others. In fact, no one was good enough to befriend. Her belief that people only cared about themselves led her to magnify instances where that seemed true while rejecting all others that disproved it. While those rules may give a sense of defense and protection to the bearer, they simultaneously preload each encounter with expectations and fears that end up prejudicially ladening healthy relationships. Consequently, for every encounter that does not survive this psychological minefield, the bearer feels vindicated that their beliefs have kept them safe. In actuality, they keep themselves locked in and their safe zones slowly become isolation chambers.

Ironically enough, many of those who experience this dichotomy want change. Only, they want others to change. Others to make them whole. So convinced they are of their righteousness, that pointing out their own responsibility vis-a-vis the events and dynamics that shape their reality feels like affront. As was the case of the client above. She was lonely and wanted to make friends, but she had built such a case in her mind against establishing new relationships that each potential friend needed to prove their worthiness to her. She kept track of how frequently they said hello or sought her out. And she quickly wrote off anyone who did not seem to give her her due. When confronted about the unrealistic nature of her expectations, she felt that I was dismissing her past pain and wanted to end her therapy. She was not ready to consider that getting close to people does not always lead to getting hurt. Helping clients at this stage is a challenge because they urgently need to get well but aren’t ready to look past their hurt. In those instances, truth not only hurts, but may even close the door to healing.

Fortunately, some do persist and learn to bravely tell themselves NO. A different client with a similar story also struggled with self-imposed isolation. Her family had moved across the state, mid-pandemic, forcing her to leave behind all that she ever knew–her school and friends. She resented having to move and blamed her parents for whatever the outcomes might be. She was physically isolated as she now lived in a rural area after growing up in midsize city. She was remote-schooling and thus socially isolated from her new classmates. She withdrew from her family and had only her phone for company. For many months she rejected any notion of hopeful possibilities in a new town. Nor did she want to get better. She felt that working on getting well would unfairly burden her with having to repair the harm done by her parents. They had chosen to move and destroy her world; they should fix it. She became severely depressed and wanted to die.

Slowly but surely, after many sad sessions, she began to accept that she might have a choice in the matter. It might have been her parents’ decision to relocate, but she had total control over how she handled it. Moreover, though coming out of her depression might feel like letting her parents off the hook, it was really about taking back control over her life. She mustered the courage to say NO to the negative self-talk and rigid ideas, and agreed to risk making new friends in the new town.

NO, as it turns out, can also be liberating. It can give one the permission to override self-imposed rules that maintain unhealthy and undesired mindsets. It can be an opening to new ways of thinking and seeing the world and others. It can be an invitation to risk growth, wellness and happiness. Certainly, NO is not always right, but the right NO is essentially a YES.