NdukuOutLoud

on the hardest “no” we ever have to say: the one we tell ourselves.

Daily writing prompt

How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?

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Very often, I must admit. And what’s more, the most frequent “no’s” I utter aren’t directed at demanding colleagues or social invitations. They are directed at me.

The Committee of Selves
If I weren’t working on this relationship with myself as hard as I am, I would have cut myself off long ago. But unfortunately, “me” is the only partner I’m stuck with. I have to deal with my own boundaries, my own discipline, and my own slow-motion growth.

It makes me wonder: Who is the “me” being disciplined, and who is the one doing the disciplining? Why can’t all these versions of myself just get on the same page and move in the same direction? Or is the contradiction-the chaos and the attempt to forge order out of it-actually the whole point?

The Morning Negotiations
My “no” starts early. It’s the answer to that little voice trying to convince me I can skip a habit for just one day. I know that voice’s tricks now; I know that one day becomes two, then three, and suddenly I’ve forgotten where I even left my journal.

Then comes the social “no.” I feel the temptation to judge, to point out where someone else is wrong, or to suggest they start questioning their most cherished beliefs. But I say no to that impulse. It doesn’t align with the compassionate plan-the understanding that my own views are likely skewed and that the only certainty we have is how little we truly know.

The Digital Tug-of-War
And this is all before midday.

I haven’t even mentioned the phone. It should be simple: It’s just a phone, put it away. But it’s not just a device; it’s a portal to all the things I haven’t done yet, the things I “should” buy, and a glimpse into a filtered life that feels just out of reach. Saying no to the “funny reels” so I can focus on the task at hand feels like a Herculean feat of will.

The Tuesday Tax
By the time lunch hours pass, the coffee high is a distant memory. I’m full, I’m tired, and every fibre of my being wants to circle back tomorrow. But again, the answer is no. I keep at it. I do on Tuesday what was meant for Tuesday.

It does help to know that I am not the only one. That there has been research around this mid- afternoon exhaustion- Ego depletion. They called it. Suggests that our willpower is a finite resource-a battery that drains with every decision, every resisted impulse, and every silent “no.” By the time 3:00 PM rolls around, my internal “executive” is running on fumes, while the impulsive version of me is just getting started. ( makes perfect sense if you ask me) It has been challenged and now there’s an idea that our perception of willpower is the game changer. That how we perceive our willpower dictates how fast it drains. If we believe our self-control is an infinite well rather than a limited tank, we often find the energy to keep going. Maybe.

I am sure there’ll be more research and other ideas will be fronted, but what I do know is it’s exhausting. It takes an incredible amount of energy just to get myself to do the “right” thing. I often find myself wishing that all the different “me’s” would finally get on board, stop the mutiny, and just move forward together.

Until they do, I’ll keep saying no. Because as exhausting as the negotiation is, the alternative-letting the committee run wild-is a price I’m no longer willing to pay.