The Fine Art of Just Saying No

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Today, Wednesday Sept 29, 2021, is fine if somewhat overcast fall day.  The leaves on my mini maple trees are turning their fall colors, and it’s just about time to sow the fall cover crop in the garden.  Seasonal rituals, so to speak.

I have a few rituals of my own.  One is reading the comic section of the Sunday paper.  That’s the first section I go for.  A couple of weeks ago, more specifically Sept 19, this strip of Between Friends appeared.  It certainly felt familiar.  As a self-defense teacher for over a quarter of a century, I’ve heard stuff like this.  A lot. 

the fine art of just saying no

And we go over this in class.

This strip depicts the same character, at different ages, declining an invitation.  The teen girl is characterized as not quite getting out a NO and stumbling into acquiescence.  The young adult woman is saying that NO, trying to make it more credible with the words “sorry” and “but” as well as an excuse (she has a whole list of possible excuses ready, just for these occasions).  The verging-on-middle-age woman has dispensed with “sorry” as well as with using a specific excuse.  And the older, wiser woman is just saying NO, because NO is a complete sentence.  

There will be times in your life where you mess up, and you should say sorry.  Declining an invitation, indeed setting any boundary, should not be such an occasion.

I also generally try to get rid of the BUTs in the middle.  BUT is a minimizer — it says you’re not really all that sorry, or that you really would NOT love to.  

NO is a complete sentence.  Is it too brusque?  Consider the relationship with whom you’re having this conversation. Often you really don’t owe them an explanation, and if not please do not feel that you’re being rude by not offering one.  Many people feel compelled to have to explain themselves, when they don’t.  Explaining yourself to another can indicate a close relationship.  Or wanting to be heard and understood by someone you see on a regular basis.  Or it can manifest a power imbalance.  

A good all-around decline could be: 

  • Thank you for inviting me, I can’t make it
  • That’s so kind of you, and no thanks
  • I appreciate your offer of help, and no thanks

If the person presses you on why, try repeating the second clause of the decline.  “I just can’t make it.”  “No thanks.”  “I said no thanks.”   Trying to push past your boundary is itself a boundary violation.

In just about all of our classes we cover the fine art of Just Saying No.  And, for younger tweens and teens, we have classes more finely tuned to those age group precisely because at different stages they will have different understandings of and skill-sets for boundaries, as well as more built-in power imbalances, as well as enhanced self-consciousness.

Speaking of which, we have a full schedule of in-person classes for the Fall, and I’ve even begun looking at my winter calendar.  Classes for tweens, younger teens, older teens.  And, of course, classes for those more independent and still seeing more maturity.

What do you think?  How well does this comic strip characterize the declining skills of the age groups, in your experience?  How do you decline invitations, and how’s that changed over your life so far?

Stay safe, live life.

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Self Defense Essentials I Learned from My Cat, Lesson #1

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“Awareness” is a key component of self-defense, yet as a practice it is ill-defined. For many of my students, the line between color-coded anxiety and recognition of real risks is blurry at best. This is exacerbated by our media environment (where violence sells anxiety, and anxiety sells airtime, and airtime sells . . . ).

Examples from my feline friends proffer useful guidance.

Know where you are vulnerable.

For example, I often shlep lots of stuff to my car. Hey, I teach self-defense classes, so I’m hauling kicking shields and handouts and mats and other bulky, unwieldy stuff. This is a vulnerable point for 2 reasons. One, my arms are usually full. Second, and more importantly, my mind is already occupied with how the heck I’m going to fit all this junk in my car (I can always drop stuff to free my hands, but it is takes more effort to drop stuff out of my head when surprised).

Sokol, ever watchful, at repose.

Enter Sokol, my cat.  

Sokol (also known as “stealth kitty”) was brought into our home as a 14 month old feral. While she’s adapted well to life as an indoor kitty, even after 7 years she hasn’t lost her feral edge. She does not like being picked up or even petted (until she solicits attention). Lap cat? No way. Ever at rest, she’s also alert to any and all new sounds. If I enter the room, she’ll keep an eye on me until she’s convinced that I’m not about to try to (gasp!) pick her up. If I’m in the room she wants to nap in, she’ll keep an eye on me as she settles in.

The key here is awareness at key points. Going back to loading my car, I know I have to leave Point A (my house, or the building where the class is held) and approach my car. I make it a point as I am leaving the building to scan the area. I’m looking for anyone who is paying attention to my activities. I get to my car. Before I unlock my car and open the trunk, I again scan the area.  And if it takes more than a second or so to rearrange my baggage, I pause to scan again. And, if necessary, again.

I have to say I’ve yet to encounter a scary person. However, I have encountered the first spring blooms on the wild roses, the emergence of the fall crocuses, and a hummingbird almost within arms’ reach. These little happenstances round out life, and are constant reminders on why you want to stay safe. To be able to enjoy daily special moments, sans the trauma of a distressing surprise.

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