No one taught me to be a "YES" woman. My teachers taught me to dissect, debate, and defend. My mentors tell me leaders are usually going against the tide. My parents taught me to be independent, assertive, curious, loyal, kind, and faithful but they never served crap for dinner. Thus, I am adverse to swallowing things that look, taste, and smell like hmmmm poop.
agreeing to everything someone is saying when I vehemently disagree
internally is, shall we say, not one one of my strengths. Listening
carefully while quietly reflecting in order to give a measured,
thoughtful response at some future date is smart and professional. I do
that often. I just cannot, in good conscious, endorse a plan I sincerely
believe is doomed for epic failure in order to gain someone's
confidence or approval. For men, this trait garners respect. They say
the guy has a spine. In women, well, I only speak for myself---so in
this woman's life, a propensity for giving an honest opinion has not
always served me well. Instead of shattering the glass ceiling, it
became a reason to install limousine tint, bars, and an armed guard to
keep me in my place.
What becomes of a person who can't look up and see beyond their circumstances?
should have made me a YES woman, but it didn't. It only made me
distrustful and overly cautious. Then, I saw the movie, "Yes, Man"
starring Jim Carrey. I don't even like his movies that much but, for
some reason I can't explain, I decided to try it. I started saying yes
to every legal invitation I received. It was a bit frightening but guess
what happened? I went kayaking for the first time! I sang a solo at my
parents' fiftieth wedding anniversary! Lol! As I am a horrible singer,
this was a huge leap of faith. I bought a round of drinks (Dr. Pepper)
for the bar! I collaborated with a new group of entrepreneurs on an
amazing initiative. I took chances.
I realized that I had let
control take control of me. The pitiful glass ceiling in my career only
covered one room. I simply had to move. In doing so, I kicked down
walls, opened my fists, and felt a sense of exhilaration I hadn't felt
since Six Flags over Texas installed a double loop roller coaster. Guess
what happens to a ceiling without support?
Feeling trapped? Let go of the need to know the end of every beginning. Take a chance on something new and let the sunshine in.
Monica Frazier Anderson