“Say yes and you’ll figure it out afterwards.” ~ Tina Fey

I’ve gotten really good at saying “no”. So good, in fact, that I’ve bragged about it out loud, mostly to my husband as he accepts yet another task at work or a new community.

“You’re going to burn yourself out,” I warn him, with a ‘mark my words’ shake of my head. “You just don’t know how to say ‘no’. I, on the other hand,” (insert gleeful smirk here), “have no problem whatsoever saying ‘no’. You have to work at it, but it’s really liberating. It really frees up your time. Just say no, hon. Go ahead, say it with me. NO.”

I wasn’t always this way. As an only child, I’m conditioned to be a people-pleaser. Surrounded by adults most of my growing- up years, I learned early on that saying “yes” was the easiest way to gain quick approval.

“Will you play a giant Canada goose in the spring school play? We could really use someone with a neck like yours.”

“Sure — I’ll give it a try!”

“Can you house sit for us while we’re at the cottage? Oh, and we’ve got two hamsters too. And a cat. You should probably feed the fish as well.”

“Ummmm, OK.”

“Will you stay in at recess and help put together a bulletin board for the French teacher? He’s really swamped this week.”

“I’d be glad to.”

And on, and on.

Not surprsingly, I quickly became an over-achiever, earning the coveted title of Teacher’s Pet early on. Except for Grade 3. Mrs. Waters hated me, and I still can’t figure out why. My mother even had a meeting with her, much to my humiliation.

“Kerry feels you don’t like her – why is that?”

I forget the response, but let’s just say I can still feel the heat from my third grade teacher’s glares to this day.

By Grade 6, though, I was at the top of my game, yessing here, there and everywhere, much to the delight of my parents and my teachers. I did indeed play the part of the Canada Goose, complete with dancing and singing. I won the public speaking competition for my school. I tied with my crush, Tom Dzuba, for the highest academic standing in the school.

The stage was set. I was a “yes” girl. Ask me, and the answer was most likely “yes” (as long as it didn’t involve turning on the oven and my parents approved).

My “yes” lifestyle pushed me outside my comfort level again and again. I entered a piano competition — and won! I wrote short stories for teen magazines — and had them published! I applied for a summer job in Finland — and got it! I applied for a young achiever’s award — and got to meet Prince Phillip, the Queen’s husband!

Life was good. “Yes” was working out just fine for me. I was one top of my game.

So what happened between Prince Phillip and present day? Well, besides about 25 years, a fabulous husband, two fun kids, a beagle, two cats, a full-time career and a mortgage I guess I just got overwhelmed. When your time is divided between making school lunches, racing to work, teaching classes, making dinner, driving kids to karate, sewing and youth group, you finally realize something’s got to give.

And so, it got a lot easier to say “no” to things.

Could I sit on a boring committee at work? No, thanks. Would I like to sing in the church Christmas musical? I’ll pass. Would I like to participate in the school fundraising run? Pretty sure we’re busy that weekend (which was probably true).

No, no, no. And no again.

On a time management level, I was winning. My days were scheduled, predictable and easily managed. My kids were at their activities on time, their school lunches were made (and somewhat balanced). My work performance was oustanding.

But something was missing. It was the wild, uncertain and highly unpredictable element of “yes”. Gone were the days of pushing myself into uncomfortable places (like centrestage weather goose feathers and a giant maple leaf on my chest). Embarassing moments were in the past, thanks to a well-planned and highly scheduled lifestyle. I couldn’t remember the last time I had taken on anything that actually scared me a little bit. Something I wasn’t fully prepared for. Something that wasn’t a part of the “plan.”

And so it was time to begin saying “yes” again. Yes to new possibilities, new adventures and new uncertainties.

Does the whole idea freak me out?

Yes.