Wellbeing
Why I’m Always Teaching My Nieces To Say “No!”
It was the first word I ever said, but I haven’t said it enough — and that’s why I want my nieces to use it confidently
I’ve never had kids — and I know that some readers will probably think “So why does she think she knows what we should be teaching kids?”
I know, because I used to be a kid. And I was taught that saying “No” was not OK. I am lucky: my childhood was free of overt abuse, and I acknowledge that many people have a much more difficult path in life. But I am learning to recognise the damage that was done when I was told “No” when I tried to say “No”.
Compliance is a good and a terrible thing
I was born in the late 70s, and was taught that a “good” child was a compliant child — do as you’re told, listen to the grown-ups, and don’t talk back.
In a way, all of that is good advice — but it’s also terrible advice when taken to extremes. Because when we don’t teach kids that their voice matters, that their wishes matter, that their ideas matter, we end up with kids who are afraid to speak up and say “No”. And that creates conditions where shady people can take advantage of that excessive compliance.
Looking back on my life, there are so many moments when I wish I had said a clear “No”, instead of going along to get along. Too many times, I prioritised compliance over my own wants and needs. I’m learning to say “No” more often, but it’s still a significant mental and emotional challenge to get that one syllable out!
The poison is in the dose
I’m not advocating that everyone should say “No” to everything, just as I would never advocate for everyone to say “Yes” to everything. There’s a middle pathway.
So often I hear myself saying “The poison is in the dose”. By that, I mean that anything taken to extremes is harmful. I’m picking apart the ‘all or nothing’ type of thinking that seems to have taken over our world. Instead of black or white, the best pathway that benefits the greatest number of people is usually somewhere in the shades of grey.
So, teaching a kid to say “No” all the time isn’t helpful. Nor is teaching them that they must never say “No”. I firmly believe that our role as adults is to teach kids the beauty and power of saying “No” so that they also learn the beauty and power of saying “Yes”, with full-body agreement.
What I’m teaching my nieces
When my eldest niece was a toddler, I read a piece written by a mother who refused to make her kids hug or kiss relatives if they didn’t want to (I can’t find the original piece, but this article has a similar message). The idea of teaching bodily consent to kids from an early age really resonated with me.
I started to put the principle of consent into practice when greeting, playing with, and farewelling my niece. If she wanted hugs and kisses, she got hugs and kisses. If she wanted to high-five or wave, she got high-fives and waves. If I was tickling her and she said “Stop!” I immediately stopped. And along the way, even before she could understand all the words I used, I would explain to her why I was respecting her boundaries.
Reinforcing consent with other grown-ups
When it came time to leave, I would ask her for a hug and kiss goodbye. Sometimes she would leap into my arms immediately, other times she would refuse. Either way was fine with me. But when she refused, one of the other adults in the room would sometimes tell her to go and give me the hug and kiss I had asked for.
I would (politely) tell them that it was OK if she didn’t want to, and that I wouldn’t be mad or sad if she didn’t. I said this out loud partly so that the grown-ups knew where I was coming from but mostly so that my niece knew that I would defend her right to say “No” when it came to her body and actions, and that she didn’t have to do things just so that I wouldn’t be disappointed.
We aren’t responsible for others’ feelings
When my second niece came along, I practised the same principle — if she didn’t want to hug or kiss, that was cool. Neither she nor her older sister have to do anything with me if they don’t want to. Now that my third niece is here, she’ll be getting the same message from me.
And I consistently make it clear that they aren’t responsible for my feelings — if I’m disappointed that I don’t get a hug and kiss, that’s my feeling to deal with, not theirs. As an adult, I’m responsible for my managing my emotions. It’s up to me to hone my emotional self-regulation skills and respond to any uncomfortable feelings that arise.
Changing their minds
Quite often when my nieces initially refuse to give me a hug and kiss goodbye, they then change their minds.
I tell them that I am leaving, and ask for a hug and kiss. When they say “No”, I ask if they would give me a high-five or wave. Sometimes they refuse even to wave! I say “OK, that’s cool — I’ll see you later and I love you”. And 9 times out of 10, they come running up to me to smother me in hugs and kisses.
It is as if they are checking that they still had the right to say “No”, and once they confirm there are no bad consequences for saying it, they’re happy to say “Yes”. And that’s another really important lesson for them — they can change their mind at any time. Giving or withholding consent in one moment doesn’t mean that they are locked into that decision forever.
This isn’t just for girls
I write about this in the context of my nieces because I don’t have any nephews — but the message is the same. Any child, and every child, has the right to say “No” to things they aren’t comfortable with, and they shouldn’t be punished for it.
I get that there are parenting challenges that, as an aunt, I don’t have to face. I’m not telling you that you’re parenting wrong — there are definitely times when you need to do something for your child that they don’t want (changing nappies or going for a nap spring to mind!). But, as often as we can, let’s teach our kids that it’s OK and right for them to make decisions about what happens to their bodies, who can touch them, and how they greet, interact with, and farewell others, and that everyone else has that right too. Because then we’ll be raising grown-ups that understand that consent is for everyone, and that having boundaries helps us to say a full-body “Yes”.
Daria Williamson lives in Tāmaki Makaurau/Auckland, Aotearoa/New Zealand. She spends a lot of time thinking about the “human stuff” and how to navigate the messiness and joy of being human. She writes a monthly newsletter about making the human stuff at work easier, and can be found on LinkedIn, Facebook and, occasionally, Instagram.
