“Thank you, and hell no!”
Alan Welner — Philippe Petit between the World Trade Center Towers, 1974
Recently, I witnessed an interaction that caught me so off guard that it made me laugh out loud.
A friend of mine responded to an invitation from a mutual connection with unexpected directness: "Thank you for the offer, and I am a hell no!"
He then provided a thoughtful explanation of his current priorities and why the invitation wasn’t a fit. His clarity, power, and authenticity struck me. There was no ambiguity, no attempts to control how he was received, and no hiding in terms of his perspective or position.
I’d already responded with a gracious no — but his “hell no!” left a lasting impression.
It was a rare and powerfully clear response.
“No” is a full sentence
Years ago, during a training program, I asked a facilitator for a coffee meeting. His response was a two letter text: “No”.
At first, my ego clenched up. Who does he think he is?!
Then, surprisingly, calm and a sense of wonder washed over me. I expected I’d be more upset — but, in reality, I found his response refreshing in its simplicity and directness. It was the first time I could recall receiving “no” as a full sentence.
This experience woke something up in me. Because, at that time in my life, I was a master of inauthentic yeses. I offered them up in all shapes and sizes:
I said yes to social plans with people that I didn’t enjoy spending time with
I said yes to events that I didn’t want to or have the energy to go to, only to flake at the last minute — or attend and be checked out, counting down the minutes until I could make an excuse to leave
I took on projects and responsibilities that I didn’t have the capacity for, even when I was overwhelmed or burnt out
I said yes to commitments that I was uncomfortable with to avoid seeming selfish or unhelpful
I said yes when I meant no because saying no felt uncomfortable. So, for a long time, I would rather twist myself into a pretzel than deal with other people’s disappointment, frustration, or judgment.
The irony is, I was disappointing and frustrating plenty of people by being inauthentic and unreliable. I just didn’t realize it at the time.
And, that wasn’t the only cost. I was exhausted, resentful, and disconnected from myself — I was so used to assessing what other people might think about me that I struggled hear what I thought about me.
Coming full circle
Fast forward to my friend's "hell no" response.
Impressed by his directness, I sent him a message: "Thank you for modeling that for me."
His reply was unexpectedly familiar. When he first read the invitation, his gut reaction was a firm “hell no.” And, initially, he decided he wouldn’t reply. But then, he saw my response, and something clicked.
He realized this was an opportunity to be seen and known more clearly — something he’d been working on.
Usually, he’d dodge these situations or keep his thoughts to himself. But this time, he decided to step out of his comfort zone and be real about where he was and what he was available for.
When “no” opens a door
His response resonated with me.
In that moment, we realized we were on parallel paths of personal growth. We were each practicing authenticity in areas where we used to hide and avoid. His "hell no" and my appreciation for it revealed a shared commitment to being more genuine, even when — especially when — it feels uncomfortable.
This exchange didn't just inspire me — it connected us more deeply. We saw in each other the struggle and the courage to be real, to let ourselves be seen where we stand.
After all, it’s when we truly allow ourselves to be seen that real connection begins.
Love,
Levina
