Was I Nice or a Jerk?

Being nice in a healthy way means not being a pushover.  In fact, being nice in a healthy way can be awkward for those who are pushovers because it involves standing up for yourself – there’s a strange idea for overly nice people.  So what does this healthy nice look like? Here’s a simple story that left my mom appalled with me.  This fact begs the question should my mom be appalled because I was a bit of a jerk or is this a sign she’s overly nice and doesn’t understand what healthy nice looks like? This answer is ultimately opinion based.  My mom and I agree on a lot of things, but this… not so much.  Because it is opinion based I can’t say she’s wrong… but I can think it (written with a coy smile on my face) just like she misguidedly thinks I’m wrong (although that might be written in a biased way).   

Several weeks ago my wife and I had a wonderful family over for lunch after church.  They have four kids who get along very well with my girls.  After lunch my wife put out fruit and a plate of freshly baked cupcakes and cookies.  As the kids played and the grownups were talking in the kitchen, their oldest daughter who is about 14 and very good at playing with the younger ones came into the kitchen with their youngest following her.  This 14 year old is a very quiet young lady who is great at volunteering in the nursery – this fact should give you a good idea of the kind of person she is.  In the past, when she’s hung out with the adults she does her best not to be a bother and quietly listens unless spoken to directly.  This time, a little out of character, she whispered something to my wife, and my wife laughed: “Oh, you’re going to have to ask Chad about that.”  My wife then shared with the three of us adults that this very gentle and meek girl asked if she could have some Mini Eggs she could see in the pantry.  My wife shared that I was given that bag for my birthday a month and half before and I don’t even let my own kids have any of them.  That’s only half true.  I’ve let my girls have a few here and there while my wife will just take some as she pleases (she thinks I don’t know).  But I’ll admit, I’m stingy with both eggs and money.  Unlike some people who can’t handle having treats in their house (i.e. my wife), I’ll milk something like this for as long as I can, which is why this giant, Costco bag will last me at least three months.  It’d be closer to four if I didn’t let anyone else in my house have any (i.e. my wife).  I should also point out that even though I’m a grownup with a grownup job and grownup “independence” I won’t buy myself a treat like this, which means receiving this bag for my birthday was a very special gift.  On top of this, when you’re a modern day dad it can be hard to have anything that’s fully yours, so this bag also represents something that’s actually mine (or as mine as possible). 

So here I am in front of this other couple who are newer friends (from church) and their shy daughter (who is such a good person she volunteers in the nursery) has somehow worked up the courage to ask for something small and should be easy to give, and my response was… no.  Does that sound surprising? I should point out that my natural tendency is to be a people pleaser, but in the few seconds I had to process this request my brain concluded: “If I say yes to her, I’ll have to offer it to everyone.  That means my bag will be finished in one shot, and that will leave me feeling angry with potential for resentment.  I guess this means the healthy answer needs to be no.”  That’s the problem with being a pushover – you’re at a high risk of resentment.  You’re also a high risk of being taken advantage of, but I was safe from that in this case because these are really good people.  In this situation I was at a high risk of being angry at myself for giving what I didn’t want to give and then even angrier at my wife for putting me in that awkward situation.

The moment I said no you could feel the shock to everyone in the room (including me who is surprised I had the courage to say no), but it quickly turned around with a few jokes and a change of topic.  In the back of my mind, however, I was still angry at my wife for putting me in that awkward position.  She knew I didn’t want to say yes, but would feel obligated.  All she had to say was: “I’m so sorry.  Those are being saved for another occasion.”  That would’ve spared the girl the embarrassment of having her request broadcast and then putting me on the spot for sharing something my wife knew I wouldn’t want to share (a statement that can either make me sound selfish or have a boundary). 

A week later I was talking with my mom and I mentioned how I felt like my wife threw me under the bus.  When I got to the point of being asked about the eggs my mom uncharacteristically interrupted me (it’s like she knew she wasn’t going to like what happened next): “You said yes though, right?” And once again, I was put into the awkward position of saying… no.  My mom, the lovely, generous woman she is couldn’t believe I would say that.  I pointed out that I would’ve had to share with everyone, and again she couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t.  I added, “We already put out fresh chocolate chip cookies and cupcakes.  Why do I need to give more?” And my mom’s response was, “Because she asked.”  That’s a fair point.  She then added, “It was your mistake for leaving the eggs where they could be seen.”  Now this point I’m not really sure is fair – they were in the pantry.  If I left them on the kitchen counter that’d be different.  My mom then added, “And you could always buy more.”  It’s like my own mom doesn’t know me – no I can’t; I’m cheap and don’t treat myself to things like this.  That being said, as a Christian or simply someone who wants to be seen as nice it would make sense for me to be willing to say yes, shouldn’t it? This is all true, but that’s where the debate starts.  If I’m asked a yes or no question, don’t I have the freedom to say no? To be honest, outside of a select few, I don’t know if my mom is even capable of saying no to anyone.  Fun fact, I made that short list.  Actually, I might be the only one at that list.  It might sound strange, but that’s probably the greatest compliment I can receive from her – she feels safe enough to say no (or she thinks I’m that bad and need to be told no; it could go either way).

What makes this story slightly more interesting is what happened next.  The week after the visit I gave the dad of the 14 year old girl a small bag of Mini Eggs I bought to give her.  I told him that I learned I’m allowed to say no, but at the same time I wanted to encourage his daughter to continue to be brave.  He laughed and said that was pretty great.  What I should point out is this idea crossed my mind sometime in the original conversation in my head when I was thinking I should say no.  More importantly, I didn’t do this out of guilt.  I chose to do it because it seemed like a nice thing to do.  In a way, it might be even nicer than simply giving her what she had asked because by going out of my way it should help make her feel special.

What’s nice in a healthy way can be a challenge to figure out because it lands on the line between love and selfishness.  Yes, we need to do kind things for others, but sometimes we need to be able to say no (or at least know that we can).  Good people struggle with this, but being able to say no is what helps keep our hearts clean of resentment or feeling weak like a pushover.  Other times we need to say yes, but also ask for something in return.  This can be very helpful when you end up the driver: “Sure, I can drive.  Can you meet me at [place] to make it easier for me?” This is also good to remember when inviting people over and they ask if they can bring anything take them up on it.  Don’t take advantage of them: “Can you bring the whole dinner with you?” but accept offers even if you don’t necessarily need it because people feel better when they can contribute (at least good people do).

This week may you consider what it means to be nice in a healthy way instead of being a pushover

Rev. Chad David, ChadDavid.ca, learning to love dumb people (like me)