“Thanks for thinking of me, but I’m not available at this time.”
“I appreciate you reaching out but I am not taking on new projects for the rest of the year.”
“Sorry, no, I won’t be able to participate this year.”
In February of this year, I wrote a list of 17 projects that I wanted to prioritize for the year. I organized it with ongoing projects first, such as this newsletter and my podcast, and then chronologically for the remainder of the year. After I wrote out my list, I printed it out and taped it to the wall next to my desk. As I looked at it, I realized it was missing one important thing, so I leaned over and scrawled:
“If it doesn’t serve one of these, the answer is NO.”1
A little while later, I added a Post-it note above my list with two additional handwritten bullet points:
Stop saying yes to things because they sound far away
A no is also a yes -> saying no leaves more room for saying yes
Like many, I have a bad habit of saying yes to a lot of things I should say no to, then end up stressed out and feeling short on time and wondering why the hell I agreed in the first place. Why does Past Jen think that Future Jen is going to be jazzed about these commitments when I have rarely in my life been excited to leave my house and function like a normal, socialized adult?
Around the end of last year, I was approached by the local leadership of an industry organization about stepping into the role of Vice President of our chapter. The invitation was flattering, particularly because it came from someone who I really admire, and validating. I came into the beer industry from a legal and economic background with a high school level (at best) understanding of brewing chemistry and science, so I’ve always felt out of place and less than at more technical conferences where almost everyone in the room has a Ph.D. Here was an invitation from a technical brewer to take on a leadership role in a more technical-focused industry group.
On the other hand, the event we were at started 30 minutes late, although all the speakers were present and the AV was working. It just …started late. Really late. Like all of our meetings did. Our meetings we found out about typically less than two weeks before they were scheduled. Communication was infrequent and often last minute.
You know what this chapter could really use? Someone like me. Someone who is very organized and overly communicative, someone with event planning experience as well as leadership experience, particularly with organizational change.
But the real question was - did I need this position? Yes, it would be nice to have it on my resume. Yes, it would be nice to have more of a role in growing our new-ish chapter. However, looking around, I could clearly see what I was in for if I took the position. Frustration about the lack of communication and planning. Frustration at feeling like I needed to take on a whole slew of unpaid labor because no one else was doing it. Frustration at seeing the rest of the leadership team understand that they didn’t need to take care of these details and responsibilities because they knew I would do it.
So I said no. Thanks for thinking of me and I’m excited to see the chapter develop, but not with me in a leadership position this year. Later that day, I wrote this note in my phone:
“I turned down an offer today. When I was first approached with it - I won’t say what ‘it’ is because, by the time you’re reading this, I’ll have had so many bigger and smaller opportunities that I’ll feel silly telling you about why it’s so powerful for me to it down in this moment, on this day, a day that is not special at all with the exception of it being the day I took the time to record the day I turned something down because I’m trusting my instinct.
Part of me took the meeting today because I liked how it felt to be selected in a world where I am very actively not selected. Justifying to myself that this time was different even though I was slicing some pretty fine hairs on what qualified as ‘different.’ Since receiving this offer, part of me has been so flattered. But from the beginning, everything in me has said no, this is not for you. But the socialized part of me keeps trying to talk me into it. Telling me to ignore my instincts and justify how this time is different.
I can decide to turn it down. I have decided to turn it down. I don’t have to say yes to anything. I can always say no.”
Throughout the year, I’ve kept a list of projects I’ve said no to. Partially to document my progress in saying no and partially to reflect on how far I’ve come over the years from being an attorney working in her free time to learn more about beer to a beer enthusiast starting a blog to document her learning experiences to where I am now. There are projects that I - even two or three years ago - would never imagine I would turn down now. AND turn those projects down because I had bigger plans. It’s not a long list, but it is a telling list.
Also throughout the year, I’ve been telling friends about my no list the way media portrays women sharing “secrets” like diet advice and skincare tips while laughing at their salads.2
“So have you heard of this new thing? It’s called saying no. It’s like, you set boundaries, and then you communicate those boundaries to people, and people, like, respect them and say okay! It’s amazing! I’ve been trying it for a few months and it’s life-changing!”
“I’ve heard of that but I’ve been scared to try it! What if people get mad at me?”
“I’d love to try it out because I’m SO overwhelmed, but [fill in the blank] is such a mess. I need to help fix it.”
Hear me out: no, you don’t.
Yes, it’s flattering to be nominated to a leadership position or asked to help out, particularly for projects about which you’re passionate. Yes, it’s nice to feel needed, particularly when you’re in an industry wherein you’re often overlooked and when your worldview is never centered.
BUT - it is not on you to fix everything. It is ESPECIALLY not on you when the beneficiaries of your (often unpaid) labor are not willing to do the hard work themselves and are more than happy to let you do the work for them.
If you’re not benefitting from your hard work, then don’t do it. If your work is not being recognized by those benefitting from it, stop doing it. Step away, resign, say no, thanks but no thanks. Trust me, your saying no friend, that it will be okay. If whatever it is collapses without you, then it isn’t a stable situation and you can rest easy knowing that you made the right choice.
Now back to laughing at our salads.
Absence Makes Your Palate Stronger
In keeping with the theme of saying no, this is a perfect opportunity to remind you of one of my favorite sensory tips: the absence of a perception is still a perception. When you’re training your palate, it is just as useful (possibly more useful) to note what perceptions you’re not getting in addition to noting what perceptions you are getting.
This is helpful for me in two ways. First, I use a somewhat bespoke blind tasting method based on the Plan, Do, Study, Act (PDSA) method. One crucial step in the method is when I arrive at the Study step, which is where I make a list of possible beer styles based on the sensory notes I have made on a blind sample. Once I have my list of possible beer styles, I compare that list to my notes and ask myself if anything is missing from my notes that help me eliminate potential beer styles. If I think the unknown sample in front of me may be Style X, is there anything missing from my notes that would indicate that the sample isn’t Style X?
Make it a practice when building your palate to make note of what’s not there as well as what is there. We’re humans, not lab instruments, so there will always be a great deal of subjectivity when sensing and describing taste. However, making note of what is missing helps me get out of my head and makes it possible to be a little less subjective.
And finally…
I passed my Master Cicerone exam! Many of you reading this already know that, so I wanted to take a moment to say thank you to all of you who have supported me along the way. I’ve been so touched by how many people reached out via DM, email, text, social media, and in real life to encourage, commiserate, support, and celebrate with me over the years. Most of my life is spent behind a screen of some sort and studying for exams can be incredibly isolating, so it is heartwarming when people take time out of their day to celebrate with me.
Achieving this title is not something anyone does alone and I’m thankful to count so many of you as part of my community because I could not have done it without your support.
Yes, I got my hands on Pit Viper stickers and have been adding them to things like this list and my husband’s driver's license photo, which he discovered when we were buying beer and he unknowingly handed his Pit Viper’ed ID to the cashier and didn’t notice it until he was putting it back in his wallet. I am a laff riot.
No, I am not a Boomer. I specifically selected a picture with the iStock watermark. I feel that it is important to point that out.
As always, a great newsletter. The power of no -- it can help keep one sane, especially this time of year! Thanks again Jen for a great newsletter! Happy holidays.