The blond man, alone in a cold light, is still talking on the phone with his hand raised, while Coraline is already running along the beach in the sunset — The Hammock and the Hummingbirds, practical guide How to hold firm when the other person keeps insisting

How do you hold firm when the other person keeps insisting?

The third time, stop answering

Stop answering when someone asks you the same thing several times. You’re tired, you haven’t changed your mind.

The net closes in

31 December. A week of work without a single day off.

— “It’s New Year’s Day! Let’s bury the hatchet, I’m taking you out to dinner!”
— “No need, I’m sleepy.”
— “Come on! A change of scene and a party will do us good!”
— “No, I’m shattered, I really need to catch up on my sleep.”
— “Come on, it’s on me, we’ll unwind a bit.”
— “You think? Yeah, maybe you’re right.”

Extract from chapter 16 — The Chestnut-Stuffed Turkey

Trap

He wants to convince you. He repeats the same argument so that you give in. He knows your answer. He doesn’t care. He wants you to change. He keeps asking until you let go, never mind that you’ve no strength left. After a while you say yes. Not because he’s convinced you. Because you’re tired.

You said yes because you were tired. Can you go back on your decision?

A yes out of tiredness doesn’t commit you to anything. You can always change your mind.

How do you hold firm when he keeps insisting?

Count how many times you’ve said no. The third time, stop arguing.
— “You’ve asked me three times. I’m stopping there. My answer is no.”
If he insists again, don’t answer at all. Silence. Don’t negotiate.

What not to do

Don’t argue your answer so that he understands: it’s a lost cause, he doesn’t want to.
Don’t count to accuse, to prove he’s got it in for you, to build yourself a courtroom, to cast yourself as the victim.
On the contrary: choose to stop arguing, take responsibility, decide it’s no. End of story.

Plan ahead for your tired moments

In the morning, write your limit in your phone. In the evening, don’t go looking for your answer. Read it.

Why do you give in in the evening, when you hold firm in the morning?

Your energy drops during the day. Saying no costs you energy. It’s not a question of character, it’s a question of battery. At ten at night, you don’t have the same energy as at eight in the morning. You just have less strength to say no.

How do you tell him you’re stopping, politely?

— “I’ve already said no, I’m moving on.”

Remember

After 3 noes, stop arguing, stop explaining.
Say “I’ve already said no”, and move on.

Practical guide 03 — The third time, stop answering
“My pen is my NO.”
The novel The Hammock and the Hummingbirds, by Karine Baridon.

Watch the hummingbirds

Watching the hummingbirds means changing your point of view.
Seeing things from every angle.
Accepting every part of ourselves. And of other people.
And laughing about it.

A hummingbird has every colour. So do we. Our shadows and our light.
You take one step to the side: green turns pink. Then gold.
Nothing has moved, except you.

What a practical guide is for

Trying out a tool.
Changing your point of view.
Laughing at something that weighed on you this morning.

What it isn’t

It isn’t therapy.
It isn’t a diagnosis.
It isn’t a courtroom: nobody’s looking for a culprit.
It isn’t a rulebook for good behaviour. You do what you like.

What it’s for

Accepting that we’re human. And fallible.
Our shadows. Our light.
Taking the drama out, to melt the resistance.
Not judging ourselves. Not judging others.
Laughing about it. It works better, and it’s more fun.

Nobody gets judged here. Least of all you.
We don’t know anything you don’t. We just wrote some tools.

Where these guides come from

Nobody made them up. They came out of a novel, chapter by chapter — in the order I learnt them. Not in logical order: in the order life threw them at me.

What you get, end to end:
Not getting stuck in the middle.
Not having to prove your worth.
Understanding the other person without carrying what’s theirs.
Spotting what keeps repeating.
Setting the limit, and holding it.
Naming the manoeuvre, which is enough to defuse it.
Getting out when the judges are also the accusers.
Listening to the body, which answers before we do.
Sorting out what we keep.
And finally: choosing where we’re heading.

I only saw the logic afterwards, reading it back. That’s why it holds: nobody drew it up in advance.

If something feels too big for you, see a professional. A guide is a tool, not a doctor.