“No is a complete sentence,” my friend shared on a text thread among my childhood friends.
It was an important affirmation in a week where I felt like my “No”s were abundant.
No to a new male hire in a potential client who wanted to jump over the female CEO and get things moving right away. No to a friend who asked me again for a favor in which I felt they were abandoning their responsibility. No to the mechanic who was backed up and asked if I could leave my car overnight. No to a coaching client who is tired of a demanding team that they supervise and now just wants to ignore them. No to a friend who wanted to shame a local nonprofit for aligning to business interests when that is their only stated objective. No to a co-working space who slapped a piece of paper that read “Lactation Room” on a public toilet stall.
I guess I’m getting good at boundaries. In some of these instances — all moments in which I had to consciously make a choice about how I would show up — I may have found some pleasure in it, delight even. I had thoughts of, “Oh this person is going to get some more information” or “Oh, you are going to be redirected now.” I also had thoughts of, “Jennifer, that’s not your burden to bear. You don’t have to take that on.”