Year of the No!

When the faint red line first appeared on my positive lateral flow test on the 27th December I let out a long sigh and then laughed.

Maybe it was the universe's idea of a cruel joke. One final galactic slap to wrap up a truly awful year.

Or maybe not.

New Year's Eve was fast approaching and despite my recent promises to slow down, do less, and rest more, I had overcommitted again, and would spend New Year's Eve dashing across London attending not one, not two, but three different social extravaganzas. In a wave of guilt, I'd also volunteered to be on standby for work, in case one of the many hospitals my team serves needed a hand.

I was dreading it. Dreading the inevitable last minute text, when too late in the day, I realised a fatal flaw in my perfect plan and undoubtedly needed to let someone down. Again. I won't bore you with the details of my pathological need to please people here, I'm sure you are all too familiar with life's people pleasers. I will say this though; when I stared down at that faint red line and thought about the long ten days of mandatory, government-sanctioned, self-isolation stretching ahead of me, it sounded like heaven.

I sent a quick flurry of waffling apologetic texts, and then I switched off my phone and embraced the overwhelming fatigue that was wracking my heavy limbs. I crawled back under my cosy duvet and slept. And slept. And slept. When I awoke I wandered around the house aimlessly. I watched the neighbour's cat playing in our garden. I read. I watched Netflix. I even had time to write. On New Year's Eve I poured a glass of wine and through a small slither of skyline, I watched the London firework display on my own. At first it felt indulgent. Then it felt peaceful. But by the end of the ten days it felt essential. I wasn't going back to my old ways. Extrovert or not, I needed this time away from the world for myself.

It was then I decided that 2022 would be the Year of the No.

I knew it was going to be tough. The urge to just say Yes runs deep. But three weeks on, the end of January is approaching and my New Year's resolution (with a little help from my sister) is going strong. Until now the fatigue has been like a welcome crutch, an excuse I can lean on when I want to withdraw. But the fatigue, like any lingering fog, is receding now and a new No is emerging. A more confident one. A 'just because I can' sort of No. A No that knows it does not need permission or even a reason - though naturally I still want both.

So with that in mind, it's time to retire one of my older poems. Why? Because 2022 is the Year of the No. And you can ask… but answer's still going to be No!

Say No!

Say No, I say

So Yes, I say

My voice rings calm and clear

A quick smile

A helpful grin

A burst of morning cheer

I wait for them to notice

The sudden beating in my chest

The strain I feel

The bead of sweat

That something is amiss

I long for them to see it

The simple cost of my Yes

But a Yes from me

Will set them free

And ease their toil to rest

Now I know No's but a word

And it means no real offence

But from my lips I'll know I'll not

Utter a single No in my own defence

Maybe I'm insane

It frustrates the hell outta me

Or maybe that it's that Yes

Is like a drug to me

Whatever the reason is

A people pleaser I may be

While I'm working on my No's

Please stop asking things of me!