It's Okay to Ask for What You Want (and Push Back on What You Don't)
On being "difficult"
My fabulous fucklings, I have failed you. It’s been thirty-two days since my last missive and I have no one to blame but myself! Mea culpa. I’m going to try to get back on track with a two-parter on one of my favorite subjects: Being difficult.1
On being “difficult”
Many folks would rather turn the other cheek than go against the grain, rub anyone the wrong way, or make waves. They don’t want to be (or more likely, be branded as) “difficult.” And in some ways, that’s understandable; it’s hard work being your own best advocate!
But if I may introduce a counterpoint: being “difficult” isn’t necessarily a bad thing.
To my mind, being difficult means being confident and vocal, challenging ourselves and others, and standing up for what we want and what we believe in, even if that sometimes means taking an unpopular stance or one that puts us squarely in the crosshairs of “Oh Jesus Christ, YOU again?”
It could be in the workplace—defending your unconventional ideas, high standards, or entrepreneurial spirit to less-than-like-minded colleagues.
It could be at home—when you have extremely clear notions about how many pairs of shoes can live in the entryway at one time before you’re running a goddamn shoe farm in this apartment.2
Or it could be on a lengthy FaceTime call with your mother—during which you patiently explain that Aunt Cindy is no longer welcome at your table because she’s a bitter old racist, and you don’t particularly care if that makes it hard for Mom to decide where to spend the holidays this year.
Congrats, you’re “difficult!”
Which, as far as I’m concerned, simply means you’re good at asking for what you want and pushing back on what you don’t.
For anyone looking to get a little more difficult on the daily, read on…
You don’t get what you don’t ask for
Friends, I have a confession to make: I like my meat cooked aaaallll the way through. It’s just who I am. My husband thinks I’m a lunatic for “ruining” an expensive filet; I think snarfing up a pile of beef tartare is about as appealing as chewing on a used Band-Aid.
But in the end, I do me and he does he, and we both let it happen because what the fuck difference does it make to either of our lives at what internal temperature the other member of our marital unit wishes to consume their protein?
There’s nothing wrong with liking things the way you like them and asking for what you want.
The worst that can happen is the askee says No can do, and you order the Cobb salad.3
As such, I hereby declare that in addition to food prepared whichever way you darn well please, other things you can and should feel free to JUST FUCKING ASK FOR include but are not limited to:
Help around the apartment from your roommates/partner/family.
They seem to think it’s easier to live in filth than to wipe their Sriracha rings off the countertop once a week; but requesting a standard of communal living that surpasses “bus terminal Panda Express” doesn’t even make you difficult—it makes you an adult without a roach problem. Ask away!
The best a hotel has to offer.
Several hundred rooms at the same price do not equal several hundred rooms at the same experience. Why not ask for a southern exposure; a corner room with no neighbors; to be on the interior vs. street side; or to be closer to (or farther from) the elevator, whatever your preference?
It takes five more minutes on the reservationist’s end to accommodate such requests, and it could mean a better view or night’s sleep for you, so why not? You may be difficult, but you’re also practical.
Good seats at the movie theater.
There’s nothing I hate more than showing up late to the movies and getting stuck with shitty seats. This is why I refuse to meet certain friends outside the theater, because if they get hung up at work and I end up with a front row, neck-craning spot for whichever eligible zaddy gets to play the next James Bond, I will spend two hours getting progressively more angry, resentful, and cross-eyed.
(This is also why some friends won’t agree to meet me outside the theater, because I insist on arriving forty-five minutes before previews. Suit yourselves, but at least we’ll still BE friends when the show’s over.)
Appointments at your convenience.
Did you know you don’t have to take the first slot they offer if it doesn’t suit your preferences? Unless your acupuncturist is moving to Australia or your dentist is only open on Tuesdays and every other slot is taken, there’s no reason to settle for 8 a.m. (if you’re a later sleeper), noon (if you hate skipping lunch), or 5:30 (if you’re worried about getting stuck in rush hour traffic).
The date and time the receptionist gives you is probably just the first one that comes up in the book. If you find yourself thinking I guess I could do that, but it’ll mean getting up ass-early/low blood sugar for lunch/road rage for dinner—DON’T SAY YES.
Ask if they have anything else, or better yet, ask for a specific window, such as only afternoons, or only Fridays. Does it create a little more work for the voice behind the phone? Sure, but the voice behind the phone gets paid for that.
Better, more consistent orgasms.
Trust me, one “difficult” conversation with your partner about pacing and technique is worth far more than two in the bush.
Pushing back, for fun and profit
Per earlier: the worst thing that can happen when you ask for something is that the askee says no. At which point you can just go ahead and order the Cobb salad, or….
…if you believe they said no for a stupid reason, you can ask again!
To wit: I once caused a boss to literally tear out her hair by asking for an office. I was a newly minted associate editor and naturally, I felt it was time I graduated from a cubicle to that small, windowless interior nook-with-a-door that nobody else was using anyway.
I asked; she said she’d think about it. I waited a week and asked again; she told me “Now is not a good time.” I waited another week (still nobody using it; just a bunch of unattended boxes and an old jar of honey), asked again, and she yelled, “Sarah Knight, you are getting on my very last nerve!” while yanking at her scalp with both fists.
But she finally told me I could have it.
And that, my feisty fucklings, is how I got myself an office in which to disappear during subsequent workplace crying jags triggered by that same boss. Score.
In sum: please don’t be afraid to “be” or “look” difficult if something you really WANT, NEED, or DESERVE is on the line.
(In You Do You, I go into detail on what I call your “WNDs.” Not to be confused with “WMDs,” WNDs do not endanger the lives of innocent civilians or provide governments an excuse to engage in an eight-year, multitrillion-dollar war. But just like WMDs, if you can’t identify them…you have a problem.)
Next time, we’ll go deeper on not only asking for what you want, need, and deserve—but then asking for EVEN MORE.
(I speak of negotiating, which is the “difficult” person’s superpower.)
Meanwhile, why not have a toodle around the NFG archive?
To make up for my accidental time off, I’ve removed the paywall from the last 6 months of posts, which include such bangers as:
Related: I ran a poll in June to see what y’all were looking for this summer from moi, and it was a TIE: thirty-two percent of fucklings wanted advice on “doing you” and another thirty-two percent chose “not giving a fuck and saying no” as your number one ask. I think today’s post covers all of those bases! (Interestingly, a mere 1% of you selected “getting my shit together” as a priority. I choose to believe that’s because I’ve already trained you well with the past eighteen months of GYST-focused content.)
Two pairs per person for up to three inhabitants or one pair per person for a 4-6 person household; never to exceed six pairs total.
I’m reminded of the day I was lunching at a mid-tier Manhattan restaurant and I ordered the Wagyu sliders and asked for them to be well done (yes, I know “sliders” are usually so small that they’re hard to undercook, but see above: I do not like pink bits), and the server returned to the table to tell me the chef refused to heed my request because it was “an insult to the beef.”
Genuinely didn't think it was an option to not take the first appointment offered. You mean I don't have to re-schedule my entire week so as not to appear ungrateful that the hygienist is willing to see me??
You have - once again - changed my life. Deep thanks.
Hi Sarah,
Great article, thank you!
I’m really keen to read your “Good Selfish vs Bad Selfish” article but the paywall is still up on that one.