Let me preface this blog by assuring my readers that I fictionalize the names of people in my blog in real life situations I have encountered unless I have their consent to use their real names. That being said, I will describe my inability to say “no” to an act I unwillingly committed.
Non-tournament play in golf, for those of us who are at best mediocre at this sport, often allows a mulligan, an informal “do-over” or a second chance to hit a ball again without incurring a penalty stroke. In the movie, Groundhog Day, Bill Murray’s character Phil, a weatherman, who is both self-centered and arrogant, is given several opportunities to redeem himself when he is trapped in a time loop forcing him to relive the same day over and over again. With each “new day” Phil begins to improve on his past self until his former narcissistic self becomes transformed into a generous lovable individual. In real life, when one commits a faux pas, the closest do-over would be that of an individual offering an apology to the one he/she may have wronged.
As I pointed out in earlier blogs, my therapist and mentor of old, Arthur Kovacs, observed that my greatest character flaw has been one of omission rather than commission. Perhaps the most powerful word in English and other languages is the word No. I have had a life long struggle in standing up for my own beliefs and rights that may put me in conflict with those of others. Perhaps this weakness made it easier for me to help my clients, like myself, who lacked assertive behavior in the every day situations that confronted them from time to time.
One of those situations has remained crystal clear in my mind when I was in 8th grade 13-year-old. Much before the smart phone and social media existed, our parents allowed their children to go out with their peers to movies or to visit them in their homes. One week-end I was with Mel and Don, friends that I had grown up with since childhood. For me and for many others in our immediate neighborhood, going out with Mel always was special. He had a certain sense of charisma that had attracted many of the people that were his friends from childhood. Perhaps it was his strength of mind and character that allowed him to make decisions and move ahead of the rest of us. He was a natural leader that many of us liked being around when we knew him in our early years.
One evening we had not discussed any plans prior to meeting so we sort of just talked about recent events as we roamed the streets. As we approached the home of a mutual friend of ours, Mel’s facial expression lit up like that of an “Aha” moment when one suddenly finds a solution to a problem. He blurted out: “Let’s ditch Peter.”
His idea was a simple one: We will go to Pete’s house ask him if he would like to go out with us. Given Mel’s peer status amongst us all, we were quite certain he would feel flattered to be included. Then when he was ready to come with us, we would accompany him for about a block and then run in different directions leaving him alone. We would subsequently meet up on a certain predetermined street. It represented the nastiness that adolescents some time play on their peers. I shuddered at Mel’s idea. My gut reaction was negative and I did not feel good about an act that would most obviously hurt a mutual friend’s feelings. Almost immediately Mel picked up on my trembled voice saying something like: “Don, he never wants to hurt other people. He never wants to be mean to anyone.” It was as if Mel was criticizing my behavior for not being real like he and the others. I knew he understood quite well this aspect of my personality. He continually prodded me making me believe what we were going to do was normal boyish behavior.
I was torn between going along and thereby complying with Mel’s prank and, my instincts telling me what we were about to do was simply wrong by my standards. Mel’s comment stifled my protests. His forceful character in conjunction with my desire to remain in his good graces propelled me into doing something that I knew I had no business doing. My fear of losing out on the friendship I had cultivated with Mel for so many years, impelled me to not argue but rather go along with what I considered a nasty joke. I Couldn’t Say No.
When we arrived at Pete’s house, we talked to his mother who called him telling him his friends wanted him to go out with them. Pleasantly surprised, he quickly went to his bedroom, put on a shirt and jacket and promptly came out, smiling and appearing most happy. The cheerful look on his face only deepened my sense of guilt and annoyance with myself for agreeing to go on with what was about to ensue. As we all came down the stairs from his house, Phil asked us where we were going and, then suddenly at the end of the block we started running away from him. At that moment, I saw a perplexed and hurt expression fill his countenance, and as he stared at me, I experienced a dizzying nausea fill my body.
I have no recollection of what we did after ditching Peter. I do remember seeing him in school the next day, and my not having the heart to apologize to him for what we had done the previous night. I was overwhelmed by my own embarrassment in attempting to explain an action I understood I could not justify. I suspect Pete knew that my participating in what we had done to him was not congruent with the way I had behaved with him and others all my life. I believe my action might have changed the nature of my friendship with Pete. After that evening, and perhaps I am imagining it, we never were quite as close as we once had been.
Mel had hit on a most sensitive area of my being: not to hurt others. But part of that sensitivity encroached on my ability to defy Mel’s desires. Throughout my life, I have struggled to express disagreement with others for fear they would retaliate against me and perhaps reject me. As I pointed out in an earlier blog, assertive behavior is not a privilege but a right that every individual in a free society has. In the role Bill Murray’s character played in Groundhog Day, by being stuck in a time loop he is given the chance to amend his narcissistic behavior and become more sensitive to the needs of others around him. Though I did not apologize to Peter, over time I became more and more aware of my own need to speak up in certain situations that would allow me to express my view to those who may or may not approve. To this day, it is a work in progress.
Dr. Bernard F. Natelson 