Ode to “No”

The best things in my life started with one simple word:

No. Nope. Not now. Think again. Try again later. Absolutely not. Nice try.

Sometimes, “no” comes in the form of a gentle hand guiding me away from something. At other times, “no” comes in and takes me by the arm, kicking and screaming. Nevertheless, “no” has seemed to always guided me towards a beautiful “yes.” I try desperately to remember this when things don’t manage to work out the way I had envisioned.

This is not to say that I welcome “no” with open arms. I still get wildly disappointed, question my self-worth, wonder what I did wrong, and assess what could have been done differently to have influenced the direction of a decision. I take “no” incredibly hard at times but through meditative analysis, I am usually able to understand this response in context of a bigger picture.

I often say “time doesn’t heal wounds,” which is to acknowledge that what time affords us is the ability to back away, see things holistically, and understand an event in a context that allows us to accept the outcome(s). This happens at different rates for different people and certainly depends on the nature of the “no.” What I try to carry with me is the notion that “this, too, shall pass” and to allow myself the safety and security to feel the emotions that swell during times of being told “no:” disappointment, failure, loss, and confusion.

Identifying and labeling emotions has been a helpful component to processing a diversion. Taking it a step further, when I feel secure enough to begin digging, I try try to assess why I am having a certain emotion. From here, I am often able to proactively address opportunities for self-development; some may call this “buying time” or “redirection” — whatever you label it:

I have found it beautiful to consider the idea that “no” is truly a gift of time.

OK, fine, I won’t pass. Besides, I was thinking: “why take the 2 legs when you can take the hypotenuse?” Sometimes, “no” illuminates a far more efficient and effective pathway to your “yes.” Or one congruent with your shifting value system.

Here are some ways that my redirections have become absolutely beautiful journeys:

1. I made it to the last round of interviewing for a job I desperately wanted back in 2018, they passed on me. A few months later, I was connected through a colleague with the Reproductive Endocrinologist who helped me and my partner have the baby we waited 8 years for. I would never have met this physician had I moved to take this role.
2. I was looked over for a promotion in that same time frame so I decided to take a trip out West. Upon returning, I learned I was pregnant and had our son come a few months earlier or later, I wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy the wonders of being a working Stay-at-Home-Mom. Thank you, COVID lockdown, because of you, I got to enjoy flexible work arrangements.
3. 8 years of repeated miscarriages left my body and emotions torn to bits but I was still standing and still going strong. I traveled hand-in-hand with my partner across the U.S.: “Hello!” Washington, Puerto Rico, California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Texas, Louisiana, Mississippi, Georgia, Tennessee, Florida.
4. Using those 8 years, I got my Masters in Public Administration (with a 4.0!) and started therapy.

It’s important to state that as beautiful as those 8 years were, they were hard. Gut-wrenching at times, joyful at others. These experiences shown a light on what was working in my life and what wasn’t — even if these details were not explicitly related to the issue at hand. The gift of time afforded me what Goethe explores here:

Only by joy and sorrow does a person know anything about themselves and their destiny. They learn what to do and what to avoid.
— Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I have also learned through these experiences the importance of being generous with your time and resources — to understand and celebrate the power of connection. Be that personal rock for someone, the professional mentor you wish you had in your career. Helping others through passing on what I’ve learned from my journey has often been a way for me to make sense of something that I went through.

I want to be clear that I do not believe that our lives are predestined and that we will always discover the “why” behind the “no.” That’s on us to achieve, to put the sweat equity in to heal, transform, and connect with others in that same pursuit. It is through our internal contemplation and outward action(s) that we overcome “no” and turn it into a “yes.”

Hold the hands of the folks who have been told “no” and help them get to their “yes.”