I began my journey of saying “yes” when I was just a young girl. It’s true—many of us nice girls do. I eagerly agreed in classrooms, while riding the school bus with papers swirling around me, and during sleepovers, snuggled inside my Care Bears sleeping bag. I said yes to boys with awkward haircuts and yes to my quirky, short English teachers. I nodded in agreement to cashiers, doctors, neighbors, and even a nun in the church basement. The word “yes” became my default response.
It was in middle school—perhaps even earlier—that my habit of saying yes became a constant. At first glance, I didn’t appear to be the quintessential “yes-girl.” I was just a blonde girl sporting a fluffy afro, red tights, and an acid-washed denim skirt. I had friends, particularly those in band, and I smiled a lot while raising my hand to answer questions I knew. While I may have had a decent intellect, I wasn’t a standout student; instead, I preferred to make others laugh. I was, for all intents and purposes, just… nice.
Yet beneath that nice exterior lay a troubling truth—a truth that continues to haunt me to this day, despite my age. After two decades, I’ve finally acknowledged it: I struggle, and always have struggled, to say no.
It’s not that I can’t pronounce the word “no.” I can effortlessly form the nasal consonant “n” and follow it with an emphatic “oooo.” I can even express it in casual conversations: “No way! Did you just tell me everything is half off tomorrow at the thrift store? No!” I can shout it into my pillow in despair: “No, no, no—it just can’t be! Why didn’t anyone tell me about that sale?” I can even scream it at my reflection when no one is around: “NO! I. SAID. NO!”
But when you ask me to pet-sit your parakeet with a penchant for swearing while you go hiking in Mozambique for four months? Unbelievably, I’ll say yes. How could I refuse? He only eats organic mango leather, which means I’ll have to drive three hours weekly to get it. And yes, I’ll chew the mangoes into bite-sized pieces for him, of course.
If you ask me to call you daily at 2 AM Eastern Time (8 AM Mozambique time) so Mr. Peepers can sing you a cheerful rendition of “On Top of the World,” you can count on me. It seems I have a chronic case of saying yes, and there appears to be no remedy in sight. Even after all the advancements in life—like the internet and trendy breast implants—this affliction remains incurable. It’s a lifelong condition that often leaves me as the only driver in the carpool, the assistant leader of the Tiger Scouts, and the last one at the table when cake is served—all while I juggle parakeets with a love for Imagine Dragons and colorful language.
This habit is loud, time-consuming, and often quite painful. I’ve scoured the earth looking for a solution to my excessive yes-ing, but alas, there’s no self-help program that would work for me. If someone were to sell me a life-changing audio course door-to-door, I wouldn’t be able to say no—especially if the introductory price was just $99.99.
I can’t help but wonder how much of my compulsion to say yes stems from societal pressures placed on women of my generation. Since childhood, we’ve been told we can have it all—a family, a successful career, love, and everything in between. While we were afforded endless opportunities, the expectations grew heavier. If we dared to dream of being President, our parents would beam with pride and say, “Yes, you can!” But soon enough, the same questions arose that our mothers faced: “Do you have a boyfriend? When are you getting married? Do you want kids?” The implicit expectation was always—yes, say yes.
From a young age, we learn that nice girls always agree. Even if our first word was “no,” we quickly understand that “yes” brings joy to others and helps us navigate life. Yes means another cookie and a loving hug. Yes means we won’t disappoint anyone.
As children, we might have wanted to express our true feelings about kindergarten—like how boring naptime is and how the paste smells awful. But instead, we nodded and smiled at the neighbor, knowing that’s what she wanted to hear.
While I don’t have a solution for my own issue, I do have hope for the next generation. I’m raising my daughter to understand that it’s perfectly acceptable to say no. It’s a challenging endeavor, especially since she often says no to me. But I refuse to let her inherit my struggles.
How many women, like me, hide their struggle? I know there are others out there, agreeing to run the Book Fair or agreeing to hairstyles they don’t like simply because they feel guilty or obligated. How many women are found hand-feeding bits of mango to a parakeet because they never learned that it’s okay to say no, and that the world will keep spinning if they do?
In the end, it’s vital for us to recognize that sometimes, saying “no” is just as important as saying “yes.”
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Summary
This article explores the deeply ingrained tendency for women to say yes, often at the expense of their own needs. While societal pressures encourage this behavior, it’s essential to recognize the importance of saying no. By fostering a culture that values personal boundaries, we can help future generations navigate their choices with confidence.
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