Stop people-pleasing at work
The yes is out of your mouth before you have even taken in the question.
Your manager stops at your desk at five to five, shrugging into his coat — any chance you could just pull the Hendricks numbers together for the nine o’clock? — and you hear your own voice answer, warm and quick and certain, of course, no problem, leave it with me, while a slower part of you, back behind the sternum, is thinking, faintly, the Hendricks numbers are not mine, and it is five to five.
Behind the eager, agreeable mask stands a plain, level, unfrightened face — and it was there before you ever learned to please.
Scene by scene you recover the small, warm, exact moves that hand your days back to you: hold one full beat before the reflex yes, strip the sorry and the just down to one plain line, leave your name standing on what you actually built, consult your own read before you scan the room.
Who this is for
◆ The reflex yes — “of course, no problem” is out before you’ve heard the ask
◆ The over-padder — every line buried in sorry and just until the need disappears
◆ The credit-giver — your solo weekends float free with someone else’s name on them
◆ The auditioner — one cool glance turns your whole day into a campaign
$139
