Too Nice for Your Own Good: How to Stop Making 9 Self-Sabotaging Mistakes

213 Pages·2000·0.92 MB·English

by  Duke Robinson

IN PRAISE OF TOO NICE FOR YOUR OWN GOOD
“A ‘how-to’ book that breaks new ground … and shares unexpected new
approaches that can open doors to more creative living.”
—R M A B , professor emeritus,
OBERT C FEE ROWN
Theology and Ethics, Pacific School of Religion,
Berkeley, CA
“The mistakes described in this book are like the common cold …. Duke
Robinson has done a masterful job defeating these emotional viruses ….
Reading this book and taking it seriously could save hundreds of hours in
therapy, and it’s a lot more fun.”
—D . R R. B , executive director,
R OBERT ALL
the State of California’s Self-Esteem Task Force,
and author of Walking on Water
“A superb book … transforming …. In clear and simple language, Dr. Robinson
shows how being ‘nice’ often means living by a tyranny of expectations.”
—S F. H , former executive director,
TANLEY OGLE
Interface-Samaritan Counseling Centers
“Highly readable, insightful, and compassionate …. Duke Robinson extracts
powerful, eminently practical lessons for everyday living from sound
psychological principles.”
—M V. C , professor of psychology,
ARTIN OVINGTON
University of California at Berkeley
“The wit and wisdom of Duke Robinson is about to become national knowledge
…. Offers more than analysis …. Attention to this very readable book can make
a difference in the way we live.”
—P H. G , CEO, Henry Gertmenian Co.
AUL ERTMENIAN
“I wish this book had come along earlier in my career …. These practical steps
toward authenticity help us put our lives in order and feel good about it.”
—D F , retired human resources manager,
ARRELL LOYD
Nissan Motor Corporation, USA
Nissan Motor Corporation, USA
“An unsentimental blueprint for complete living as well as a provocation to the
highest humanity in all of us.”
—L A , founder and board member,
EROY ARONS
National Gay and Lesbian Journalists Association
and author of Prayers for Bobby
“Profound, provocative, and practical …. A thoughtful and deeply felt gift to all
of us who get caught between the goodness of our hearts and our own naiveté.”
—S N , The Corporate Coach
HIRLEY ICE
“Robinson seeks to counsel those who find that they often make mistakes while
acting from the best of intentions …. He helps the reader to identify and
overcome these foibles, noting that change may be a long, painful process.”
—Library Journal
“Robinson’s nine chapters turn the qualities of niceness inside out: ‘trying to be
perfect,’ ‘taking on too much,’ ‘not saying what you want,’ ‘suppressing anger,’
‘reasoning with irrationality,’ ‘telling little lies,’ ‘giving advice,’ ‘rescuing
others,’ and ‘protecting those in grief.’ Sound familiar? He says he can help you
get over it without becoming an ogre.”
—Dallas Morning News
“Dogooders: Here’s why you burn out …. In his book, Robinson shows how too
much of a good thing can lead to emotional and physical exhaustion. His goal is
to liberate dogooders from their self-sacrificing bondage.”
—New Orleans Times-Picayune
“Duke Robinson’s book on ‘mistakes made by nice people’ is a big hit. He
shows so clearly how niceness keeps us from growing and dealing honestly with
one another.”
—Presbyterian Outlook
Copyright
. Copyright © 1997 by Duke Robinson. All rights reserved. No
TOO NICE FOR YOUR OWN GOOD
part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical
means, including information storage or retrieval systems, without permission
from the publisher in writing, except by a reviewer who may quote brief
passages in a review. For information address Warner Books, Hachette Book
Group, 237 Park Avenue, New York, NY 10017
ISBN 978-0-7595-2205-3
A hardcover edition of this book was published under the title Good Intentions
in 1997 by Warner Books.
First eBook Edition: October 2000
Visit our website at www.HachetteBookGroup.com
To Barbara,
with whom I have worked on my “niceness” for more than forty years of
marriage, whose separate sense of self allowed both of us to survive the
writing of this book, and to whom I owe so much more than I am able to
see or appreciate.
To Margo, Andrew, Steve, and Stuart,
our grown children, who are their own persons in spite of any nice
behaviors we modeled while they were young, whom we love very much,
and whose love and families bring us much joy.
Acknowledgments
Some insights in this book emerged decades ago as I pursued my formal
education. Others came over nearly forty years of reading, teaching, counseling,
and leading seminars on human consciousness and behavior. Some of these
sources are lost from memory. A few that I’ve retained stand out.
I trace the key phrase accepting your acceptance to Harvard theologian
Paul Tillich, certain ideas found in the second chapter to time-management
expert Alan Lakein, the “I” message paradigm in the fourth chapter to Thomas
Gordon and his book Parent Effectiveness Training, the five steps in the grief
process listed in the ninth chapter to the death and dying pioneer Elisabeth
Kübler-Ross, and the radical distinction between protecting and supporting the
bereaved, also in that chapter, to fellow clergyman William Sloan Coffin. I
acknowledge my debt to these creative thinkers.
For twenty-eight years, until July 1996, I served as pastor of the Montclair
Presbyterian Church of Oakland, California. All that time it provided me a
loving and intellectually stimulating community. It also granted the sabbaticals
that enabled me to get this book off the ground. I am deeply grateful for these
gifts.
My church staff colleagues were most supportive as I put the book together,
especially John Hadsell, our Theologian in Residence, whose encouragement
and literary criticism proved invaluable. Our secretary, Judy Fletcher, handled
my copying needs efficiently. I deeply appreciate their contributions.
I also want to thank a contract group at the church that met with me for ten
sessions in 1992 to discuss the behaviors I cover in this book and critique some
of my earliest drafts: Doug Ferguson, Bill Ferrier, Margot Lyon, Eloise Gilland,
Lloyd and Rita Perry, Marjorie Rawls, Raphael Shevalev, Linda Streb, and Jack
York.
I am grateful, too, to friends Mimi Loyd, Polly Orr, and Dave Rudd, who
reviewed the manuscript at various stages. And to Vern and Gloria Alexander,
Hazel Angell, John Barr, Janet Clyde, Dale and Elsie Cooper, Robin Crawford,
Parry Dent, Karen Flamme, Eleanor Gertmenian, Virginia Hadsell, Louise
Hermanson, Robert Hirni, David Hyde, Sally Juarez, Wally Kelly, Minda
Lucero, Marna McKenzie, Joy Palmerlee, Norm and Enid Pott, Dean and
Dorothy Skanderup, David Vandre, and Guy Wulfing, all of whom, at various
times, offered support or constructive criticism related to their personal
experience or professional expertise.
I want to thank my literary agent, Laurie Harper of the Sebastian Agency,
San Francisco, who both affirmed the book’s strengths and told me what simply
wouldn’t do. Her savvy, moxie, and the widespread respect she enjoys from
major publishing houses had a lot to do with getting the book into print. I also
couldn’t have done without her personal and professional attention that prepared
me to face the sometimes terrifying publishing process.
Special thanks also go to Susan Suffes, my editor at Warner Books, who
believed in this book immediately and whose care and professional skill helped
make it better. I am deeply grateful for her availability, great energy, and support
as she carefully led me, step by step, through the publishing labyrinth.
Many unnamed people helped give shape to this book. Some of them don’t
know it. Some of them I can’t identify. I offer them, whoever and wherever they
are, my heartfelt appreciation.
Contents
IN PRAISE OF TOO NICE FOR YOUR OWN GOOD
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Introduction
Mistake #1: Trying to Be Perfect
Mistake #2: Taking on Too Much
Mistake #3: Not Saying What You Want
Mistake #4: Suppressing Your Anger
Mistake #5: Reasoning with Irrationality
Mistake #6: Telling Little Lies
Mistake #7: Giving Advice
Mistake #8: Rescuing Others
Mistake #9: Protecting Those in Grief
Author’s Note
Introduction
You are a nice person. You always try to do what others expect.
While you’ll do anything for them, you never ask a thing for yourself.
You’re careful not to hurt others’ feelings or blow your top. When
irrationally attacked, you remain reasonable and calm. You’re always
ready to offer good advice. Although a friend’s drinking embarrasses
you, you would never think of embarrassing her. And you never talk of
Grandpa’s death in front of Grandma. You are a really nice person.
S
ometime back in the mid-sixties, I sat in my office late one night listening to a
nice young man talk about the woman he planned to marry. He loved her and
couldn’t bear the thought of hurting her, but she constantly expected things from
him that made him angry. And every time he felt this way, what he did either
made matters worse between them or made him feel untrue to himself. For most
of the hour he vacillated between giving up on this relationship and resolving to
do better at what he had been doing, even though he knew it wasn’t working. He
felt confused and lost. And so did I.
Driving home that night, I thought of the other nice people whose stories I
had heard recently: a widow who never said no to her friends and was all burned
out; a middle-aged man who could never be honest with people who
disappointed him or wanted more from him than he could offer; a woman who
could never please her bedridden mother and didn’t have the faintest idea how to
talk with her.
I remember having two reactions as I slipped into bed. First, I thought,
These are really nice people. They’re smart, they have good intentions, their
values are sound, they want to live productive lives, they’re not crazy. But they
constantly waste their time and undermine their best interests by what they say
and do.
Second, I said to myself for the very first time, That’s exactly what I do. I
am one of these really nice people.
I knew before then that I tried too hard to impress other people with what a
nice person I was. I also saw that some of my socially acceptable behaviors
sometimes got in the way of my good intentions. But I had not realized the
extent to which being a nice person dominated and damaged my approaches to
work and relationships. My eyes were beginning to open to the negative impact
niceness had on my life.
These reflections drove me to look more honestly at how being a nice
person affected me. With a new awareness, I began to identify more of my self-
defeating behaviors: I regularly said yes to people when I should have said no; I
consistently cut myself off from others by not telling them what I wanted, by
pretending I was calm when I was angry and by lying whenever I was afraid to
hurt their feelings; and time and time again I frustrated myself by taking
responsibility for the problems of those I cared about.
I became aware of this last behavior through another conversation that
made an impression on me. Several psychologists and social workers, along with
a number of my colleagues and I, began meeting weekly with a renowned
psychiatrist to reflect on how we operated as members of the helping
professions. At one session the doctor suggested that for us to jump on our
horses and dash off to save people who had problems was damaging to both
them and us. He caught me by surprise. I’d never thought seriously about that. I
was trained in pastoral counseling and was gaining experience, but I had always
assumed that in the normal traffic of everyday living, nice people—particularly
those in my profession—should try to save everyone they can.
Again it hit me: We nice people constantly undermine our good
intentions.
I started talking informally to colleagues and friends about these kinds of
behaviors. Soon we were acknowledging how painful it was to think about
rejection and how it drove us relentlessly to please those who were important to
us. We shared how difficult it was to express our strong feelings, particularly our
anger, and how this derailed our communication and put distance between us
and those we loved. We talked, too, of how stymied we usually were in our
efforts to straighten others out or help them solve their problems.
I became increasingly curious about these behaviors. Where did they come
from and why did we act this way? Why were they so damaging? What would it
take for us to stop sabotaging our good intentions and act differently?
I also became eager to develop theory and practice that would enable me