This week I was offered the chance to write a piece for Toronto Life magazine. As a freelance writer my first instinct was to jump. They liked my pitch. That had to mean they valued my words, right? But it wasn’t that simple.
In the end I said “no.” And here’s why:
Months ago my pitch was received, passed from desk to desk. Finally an email was sent and then a zoom call scheduled. The editor and I talked, laughed even. It wasn’t a friendship per se, but there were elements in our conversation that felt relational. My “yes” was not yet confirmed but it was assumed. So much so that the editor was one email away from sending a photographer to my home. And because of what I saw to be her effort on my behalf, caregiver instincts kicked in. For her. Not for me.
But when I told my husband and then my sister about the article, pulling the curtain back on this opportunity meant looking at what it really demanded. Sure my voice would be included in the magazine but only if I shone a spotlight on personal financial details for the city to read. They were more interested in the selling price of our condo than they were in my creative work. For clicks they were counting on readers being curious about what my family pays in rent, not my work as a professor or a podcaster and writer. Maybe I’d choose to share such details in a conversation with a friend if asked. But the pointed asks from Toronto Life felt different. They were voyeuristic. They were demands that came with a vitriolic comment section.
Like too many encounters I’ve had in my life this wasn’t a caring relation in action. I recognized the feeling brought up in me with the ask. It was resource extraction. And the Natalie of last month…last week even…might have felt obligated to say “yes” to the “opportunity” to write for this big publication. But this time I rebelled against my very nature. Like the grown-up I’m trying to be on my best days I fought myself, listened to my body and said “no.” Self-care baby steps.
I’m reminded of one particularly disastrous class early in my career as a high school teacher. In the English office at the end of the day, my department head comforted me with these words: “Natalie, embrace your insignificance in their lives.”
She wasn’t saying I didn’t matter to my students. Teachers matter very much (I wrote a whole book about that truth)! But her words had something educational to say to me about self-care. Just as my students would leave the classroom and move on from my failure to more important things like school crushes and parental woes, my “yes” or “no” was insignificant in the bigger picture of this magazine editor’s life. And there’s freedom to embrace in such a lack of care! My “no” would not affect her life more than a “yes” had the potential to negatively impact mine.
This “no” was a superhero moment of self-care for me. Put in the larger context of my life as a whole, this was sword-pulled-from-stone stuff of legend. How many times have I said “yes” to my own detriment? So much gained with the simple recognition that this lovely editor has already reached out to some other hungry freelancer and the empty spot in her column will no doubt be filled by tomorrow. Say it with me: Embrace your insignificance.
There will always be more words to write. And my reframing practice, restorying my response to this opportunity is filled with on-going self-love instead of failure. The power of my “no.”
Have you harnessed the power of your “yes” or “no” lately? I’d love to know more about your story — leave a comment or an image and let’s celebrate our lifelong learning together!
I Love this! So much to learn from your account of this event. I so appreciate you, your honesty and vulnerability, your humour and realism.
An instructive moral essay for all of us! Thanks for articulating it so well!