This might not sound revolutionary to some, but I recently realized I’ve made great strides in my ability to say “no” to others’ requests.  A few days ago, a friend called, saying she was having a surprise party for another friend that night and she wanted me to be there.  I was planning to go to a talk at a local bookstore, and I’d been looking forward to it for a while.  I told my friend I’d already made plans, and stuck to my guns even when she was incredulous that I’d go to a lecture instead of her party.

This was definitely a departure from what I was like three years ago.  Back then, I probably wouldn’t even have mentioned to my friend that I had other plans—I would have agreed to go to her party without hesitation.  I used to feel shame and guilt at the prospect of telling someone I wouldn’t do what they wanted and possibly upsetting them.  It didn’t matter to me whether the other person’s request was reasonable, or whether I wanted to do what they asked—all of my attention was on how they’d be likely to react, and how awful I’d feel, if I inconvenienced or hurt them.

The Key Realization

About a year ago, I had a realization that changed my attitude toward saying “no.”  I came to understand the difference between taking responsibility for how other people feel and simply caring how they feel.  When you take responsibility for someone’s feelings, you consider yourself entirely at fault when they feel hurt or angry.  It’s as if you’re responsible for their childhoods, the state of their intimate relationships, their moods, what they had for breakfast, and all the other factors that influence human beings’ emotional reactions.

As farfetched as this idea may seem, most of us learn and buy into it early in our development.  Psychologist Carl Semmelroth aptly puts this point in The Anger Habit In Relationships:

As ridiculous as it seems, it is commonly assumed that our partners make us angry. Most people justify their anger by pointing at something someone else does. And, unfortunately, many spouses and children see themselves as responsible for the anger of other family members . . . . Children learn this perverse theory about anger from their parents and teachers; they learn that they are responsible for other people’s anger.

However, as I finally learned, you can actually empathize with someone and be concerned for their well-being—you can care about how they feel—without blaming yourself every time they get upset.

For a long time, I didn’t understand this distinction.  I thought I had two choices in relating to others’ emotions—either bear full responsibility for them, or have no concern for them at all.  Because lacking interest in them seemed callous to me, I chose to blame myself whenever someone else suffered.  This approach had me avoid saying “no” in almost every situation, because refusing someone else’s request would likely upset them and I’d blame and punish myself for it.  It was a huge relief when I recognized that caring about people didn’t require me to slavishly agree with or obey them.

Simply understanding this distinction, however, wasn’t always enough to keep me from caving in to others’ requests for fear of hurting them.  I’d been avoiding conflict to spare others’ feelings for so long that it had turned into an unconscious habit, and I had to carefully monitor my behavior to make sure I didn’t lapse into my old pattern.

Monitoring Yourself In Real Time

I found that the best way to do this was to observe myself carefully when I interacted with people and watch for moments when my mind became fully absorbed in how they were feeling.  In those moments, all of my attention is on preventing others from being upset, and none of it is on how I feel or what I want.  I can tell when I’m slipping into this mindset when I ask myself a simple question:  “how am I feeling right now?”

If I can’t answer this question—if I have no awareness of how I feel—it means I’ve lapsed into taking responsibility for others’ emotions.  As long as I make sure to ask myself this question when someone makes a request of me, I don’t find myself giving in with no regard to my own needs and desires.

Another method I’ve developed to avoid blaming myself for others’ upset is to watch out for tactics people use to get me feeling responsible for their emotional states.  For instance, some people will accuse you of not caring about them when you don’t do something they want—when, in fact, you are absolutely concerned for their well-being but you have other plans or priorities in that moment.  Or, they’ll demand to know how you could “hurt them” like this—implying that you, not anyone or anything else in their lives, are solely responsible for any hurt they’re experiencing.

Often, people aren’t consciously trying to manipulate you when they employ these tactics—they’re just using the style of communication they’ve grown accustomed to.  However, consciously or otherwise, these people are trying to induce you to do what they ask by convincing you to feel responsible for their emotions.  “If I’m upset or dissatisfied, you’re to blame,” they’re basically telling you, “so if you don’t want to be at fault and feel ashamed, you must give me what I want.”  If you keep an eye out for techniques like these, and notice how they can shake your composure, you’ll get better at catching yourself when you’re about to give in to someone’s demands.

At first, weaning yourself off the habit of taking responsibility for others’ emotions can be a painful process.  Initially, I felt very uncomfortable saying “no” to someone’s request in the face of their irritation or distress.  I worried that people wouldn’t want to be around me if I didn’t always go along with their wishes.  In fact, however, my newfound ability to stand up for my needs and wants hasn’t ruined any of my relationships.  If anything, telling others what I need and want has helped them learn more about me as a person, and thus had them feel more deeply connected with me.

(This article appeared in the Carnival of Improving Life, located at http://www.improvedlife.ca/content/eighth-edition-carnival-improving-life.)

Related posts:

1. Creativity and Boundary-Setting, Part 2: The Limits of Responsibility
2. The Joy of Listening, Part 4: Setting Boundaries
3. Thoughts On The Ideal Workplace, Part 1
4. The Joy of Listening, Part 3: Staying Empathic
5. Is Your Creativity “Arrogant”?