As a recovering perpetual people pleaser, I recently had a small moment of personal growth. I said “no” when someone asked me if I would be interested in working on a long-term project, which would require a lot of additional time and care but wouldn’t be compensated.
The old me would’ve immediately said yes to any and all opportunities. Maybe because I only watched the first 40 minutes of the Jim Carrey movie “Yes Man” (2008) when I was younger, or maybe because I grew up in an immigrant household, but my ethos was that I shouldn’t say “no” if someone asked me if I wanted to do something or if they needed my help. I should, instead, try my best and seize any chance I can.
And this ethos overall has positively impacted my life–it helped me be courageous in the face of professional challenges. I don’t know if I would have joined any leadership positions or would have actively participated in professional development activities if I hadn’t said yes to those opportunities.
But I think many of my fellow recovering people pleasers may have also found themselves stretched too thin, leading to moments of burnout and demotivation. Personally, I have also found it especially difficult navigating how to say no in the library world–for example, when a patron requests something, my immediate instinct is to say yes and go the extra mile. Even if the request is unreasonable, if I can technically fulfill the request, it’s challenging to navigate how to correctly respond. This is especially true for powerful stakeholders, like faculty.
However, over the past couple of years, I have become better at saying “no” when it’s a question of policy that could affect my colleagues. My internal calculus is that I would rather disappoint a patron than overburden my colleagues by making an exception that could become the rule. I’ve also learned how to say “no, but.” Like, “No, I can’t get this for you. But I can offer this alternative instead.”
But I didn’t realize until last week that I would have a lot of difficulty saying “No, I would like to but I want to be fairly compensated because I value my time and work.” In theory, I know that people need to be fairly compensated for their work. I felt that I was secure in knowing my worth. So why did I struggle so much to say “no?”
Because in addition to being a recovering people pleaser, I also have this misguided “vocational awe”–that I’m lucky to be working at a library, and that the job and all that it entails should be rewarding enough. And this was the mountain I needed to climb.
I went back and forth on my answer, sitting in my drafts for more than a day. I rationalized to myself all of the reasons why I should say yes. But I knew at the end of the day, only I could be my strongest advocate. And my world didn’t end when I said “no.” I was told thanks and everyone moved on.
Although I do still feel a slight twinge of anxiety around my choice, I ultimately feel proud of myself. In the grand scheme of life, this was a very small moment–even to the individual I said “no” to, I’m sure it was just another email they received. But for me, this moment was the culmination of a lot of work over the years and a sign that I am still growing.