How To Say Yes Without Becoming A Yes-Man
Last weekend I got onstage, in front of a crowd, and did sketch comedy! I’ve never thought about doing sketch comedy, and I REALLY didn’t think I wanted to do it, but I’m soooo glad I said yes: it was tons of fun. It reminded me of just how free and full I feel when performing. It got me out of my comfort zone. It boosted my confidence, and I walked away with a number of new friendships built on the trust and vulnerability that come out of any honest creative collaboration.
It all started with an invitation to help with a local conference. My plate — I justified — was full, buuuuut, I struggle with feeling obligated to say yes to EVERYTHING, so I showed up to a committee meeting looking for the simplest role, with the least commitment, and lowest level of responsibility. My motives were completely off. Fortunately, The Universe has a way of putting me in check — the conference’s Variety Show needed a couple of cast members, and I was asked to be in a few comedy sketches.
Like any good people pleaser, I immediately said, “Yes,” but in my heart I had no intention of being ONSTAGE. I’ve been onstage. It is not the menial, low responsibility task I was hoping for. And, if I’m being honest, the thought of performing in front of people I know and respect after years of not being onstage terrified me. Even so, I nodded and smiled at everything the Committee Chair said, thinking I’d wait until the first rehearsal to weasel my way out of being onstage and into being backstage where I could hide in the shadows, but still be involved.
When a good friend of mine asked why I didn’t want to be in the show, I hemmed and hawed. I didn’t want to admit that fear and ego were driving me backstage. I didn’t want to say out loud that I felt like I was too good to be in this production, and not good enough to be in any production— simultaneously.
I don’t know if anyone can relate to ego pulling you in totally opposite directions like that, but I feel it A LOT: my ego wants me to believe that I’m more talented, smarter, prettier, funnier, and more capable than all of you, but deep down in my core I fear I will never measure up to any of you.
My friend very nicely suggested that it sounded like the show was EXACTLY what I should be doing.
Damn it.
Here’s the ironic thing about being a Yes-Person (for me, at least): I say yes to avoid letting people down. I say yes to avoid judgement. I say yes to prove I’m responsible, reliable, a good friend, a good family member. Simply put, I say yes to prove my worth. But saying yes to EVERYTHING does the exact opposite: it frustrates people, it let’s them down, and it robs me of any chance to show my dependability or my care for that person, project, or experience.
With that in mind, my New Year’s Resolution this year was to stop jumping into commitments without pausing to look at my motivations and my availability. So far, my resolution feels like a success, and is going strong four months into the year, but it is absolutely not playing out the way I’d expected. I’d hoped to feel less anxiety, worry, and pressure. I wanted to feel present, and enjoy myself more often. The whole idea was to give myself time for myself, to relax now and then, to nurture budding relationships, to foster new interests and rekindle old passions. All of those things are happening — SUCCESS! What I didn’t expect was to feel more productive and more involved than I have in years. I didn’t expect to take MORE on and STILL feel less anxiety, more energized, and more centered.
I’M LEARNING WHY AND WHEN TO SAY YES
I used to say yes out of a self imposed sense of obligation. I confused dependability and reliability with the need to be seen as perfect. I said yes for validation that I was deserving of a person’s love, friendship, or respect.
At the same time, I’ve steered clear of passions and passed on opportunities out of fear of imperfection. The idea of performing in the Variety Show spotlighted a ton of those fears: fear of failing, fear of being judged, fear of being seen as, “uncool,” the list of goes on. Regardless of which side of the ego coin we’re looking at — the overinflated ego, or the deflated ego — when you get to the root of it, my ego is often just fear in disguise.
Once I admitted it was fear that was keeping me from wanting to participate in the Variety Show, I took a step back and asked myself four questions:
1. Is this an opportunity for growth?
2. Is this an opportunity for self care?
3. Is this an opportunity for me to be of service to others?
4. Can I make time for this commitment without it negatively affecting others?
These questions give me a chance to look at my motives before jumping in or holding back. If I can answer, “Yes,” to ONE of the first three questions AND question four, I throw caution to the wind, and go for it. If not, I sit on it, and I ask trusted people in my life before moving forward.
One of the biggest things I’ve learned over the last year and a half is that doing nothing is sometimes the most profound action I can take. It’s not that I don’t trust my gut, I definitely do. Buuut, I don’t always recognize right away what my gut is trying to tell me. Pausing, asking myself honest questions, and listening to other people’s thoughts and advice helps me let go of the attachment, fear, and desire that cloud my decision making ability. That emotional cloud would have kept me off stage, it would have kept me from rekindling an old passion, and it would have kept me from getting to spend an intense and intoxicating two months with some incredible people. I’m so glad I said yes.
