When “I Can’t” is Just Right
A client of mine is a professor, and with her permission I share this story. She was in a car accident which caused lower back and neck pain, especially when sitting. However, she continued to show up for her lectures, sit through office hours, and grade her students’ papers, though these tasks now caused her intense discomfort. She came to me for help with pain and an increasing sense of frustration and anger.
It seemed clear that she needed time off of work to rest and heal, but when I suggested this, she waffled. She said, “Oh, it’s the middle of the semester, everyone would be in a real spot if I did that.”
I asked her, and now I’m asking you: where does this come from? Why is it so difficult to admit when we can’t meet an obligation, even when we have a very good reason?
For this client, the answer was deep in her past. As a young girl she was punished for “flaking” on her chores or getting distracted. She knew, though no one said this to her, that rest and relaxation was a sign of laziness, of being unwilling to pull one’s weight. Her parents rarely rested, and they had negative opinions of those who did. When we looked closer, we discovered that somewhere inside this brilliant woman, there was a child terrified to admit that she desperately needed rest, because she was certain it would mean losing her parents’ love and regard.
In Healing Work, we hold these situations gently. We stayed in silence for a long time while she processed the long-held pain and fear. There were tears, and a great softening as she felt compassion and love toward the child she used to be.
After some time, my client opened up her eyes and quietly stated, “I can’t.” The words were simple, clear. Her whole demeanor shifted as she continued, “I can’t keep working. I’ll never recover if I do. I… can’t!”
“I’m not lazy, I’m injured!” she said, as if discovering it for the first time. She stood strong and proud when she left my space, a great difference from the worn-out and cranky person who had greeted me at the beginning.
She later wrote to her department to let them know about the accident, and she was surprised and relieved to find her colleagues were understanding. They even sent flowers.
Sometimes, “I can’t” is the beginning of true healing. When it’s true and it’s said without judgment, “I can’t” is a powerful act of self-love.
No, I can’t babysit your child today, after being up most of the night with my own child.
No, I can’t help you move that couch because it’s too heavy for me.
No, I can’t attend a social gathering when I’m feeling this upset.
No, I can’t answer that email when I am ill.
As you read these, ask yourself: Could you confidently say these things? Assuming the above statements were true for you — what would stop you from saying so?
The answer to that could lead you to some interesting places.
Enjoy the search!
