You Can Say No

Kim and I were on our way to San Diego. For reasons known only to Delta, our seats got reassigned, and we were split up. Considering that part of the reason for our trip was to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary, and because we still actually like each other, we looked for an opportunity to switch seats with another passenger.

I was in the middle seat, and a lady sat in the aisle seat next to me. Kim, herself in an aisle seat one row behind, asked the woman if she wouldn’t mind swapping spots so we could sit together.

None of us was in any kind of preferred seating. No First Class, Comfort Plus, or exit rows involved. And yet the woman hesitated, immediately exhibiting a perturbed attitude, as if Kim had requested both kidneys and another vital organ to be named later.

Picking up on her prickly vibe, Kim calmly but firmly responded to the woman with four words: “You can say no.”

After a short pause, which perhaps provided the time to realize she wasn’t losing anything in this exchange, the woman willingly switched places without any further incident or passive aggression.

Now, I don’t know this lady.

Maybe she was feeling settled and didn’t want the hassle of moving.

Maybe she really has a thing for seat 21D.

Maybe she was disappointed that she wasn’t going to get a chance to hit on me.

All I know is that Kim’s short reply felt like such a baller move.

And it was. Not in some sort of “I’m going to bully you into this” or “I’ll share this on social media to shame you in front of the world” sort of way. Rather than an attempt by Kim to exert some kind of power, it was an act of generosity in which she gave power away.

It’s easy to go from one choice to the next, feeling like we are a tiny vessel whipped to and fro by the waves of life, forever at the mercy of our boss, our kids’ school, the government, the airline, or the passenger one row behind us.

Maybe for this woman, it felt like one more example of having to bend to the whims and wishes of someone else. Another moment of feeling powerless.

And with one simple statement, Kim gave her a gift.

“You can say no.”

Four words that gave her permission to pause and be reminded that she has agency over her choices and life. In this case, I’m grateful for her yes. But I’m glad she allowed me to reflect on how difficult it is for us to say no.

We forget how much power we have. Sure, sometimes there are dire consequences for ignoring certain directives. But they are far fewer than we presume.

You really don’t have to say yes to every invitation, opportunity, or request for help.

You really don’t have to say yes to the offer to join the board, accept the position, or sign your kid up for one more thing.

You really don’t have to say yes to that social event when you were looking forward to a quiet weekend you so desperately need.

And you know what? You don’t even have to give a reason. You can simply thank them for thinking of you and tell them it’s not going to work out this time.

We can say no. We can change our minds. We can choose to reverse course and abandon this path we started down, but no longer want to follow.

It’s ok.

You can say no.