Stopping The Ask

Can’t and won’t are not the same thing.

*A note before you read: this piece has vague references to suicidal ideation. If that’s not something you want to read about right now, it’s okay to skip this one. If you’re struggling, the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline (call or text 988) is available 24/7 in the US.

This post is not talking about behaviors that are actually harmful, whether that’s self-harm or harm to others. It addresses behaviors we don’t like, don’t approve of, or that don’t fit our expectations.

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Can’t and won’t are not the same thing.

Most of the time, we assume won’t : someone who is able to do the thing and is simply choosing not to, without ever considering the possibility of can’t. There is a spectrum of can’t that can range from consistent to inconsistent, depending on someone’s environment, available support, accessibility, and disability.

Can’t right now.

Can’t today.

Can’t this week.

Can’t this year.

Can’t ever.

Present on some days and gone on others, dependent on conditions we can’t always see. The hard part is that can’t usually isn’t always as obvious to us. A cast on a broken leg is easy to see. Everyone adjusts their expectations because the evidence is right there. But depression, dysregulation, burnout, trauma — none of that looks the way a cast does. And even when there are signs, other people can deny it’s there. It's not always a perception failure; sometimes it's an outright refusal.

When there’s no cast to see we tend to default to won’t: they could if they wanted to.

Won’t is often the default.

That’s part of why this is so easy to miss, even when we love someone, even when we’re paying close attention. The absence of visible limitations can be mistaken for the absence of real limitations.

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I spent nearly 10 years being a caregiver for my mom in my home. She spent most of her time in bed, and I kept trying to get her out of bed. “If she just tried harder, maybe she could do it. If I just pushed more, maybe she could do it.”

There were real, valid reasons I wanted that for her. As I’m reflecting back now, I’m asking different questions than I did back then.

What if she can’t get out of bed?

What if there was nothing “wrong” with her being in bed?

Is it possible that her being in bed all day gave her some semblance of safety?

What if that is what her nervous system was actually capable of doing?

I wanted her to get out of bed because I thought it would help her. Could that have made some things better? Yes, of course. Could it have made some things worse? Yes.

I’m not saying being in bed all day is a good quality of life by any means. But if we force someone, pressure them, and make them feel guilty for being in bed and that’s the only coping mechanism they have access to. Where does our desire to help actually turn into potentially being harmful? Even if that’s not our intention.

What would happen if we stopped asking?

If I stopped pressuring her to get out of bed?

If I stopped making that the problem?

If I started to accept that she had real limits, and had been showing me time and time again that getting out of bed was an unrealistic expectation?

It wasn’t hurting anyone. That doesn’t mean there’s zero risk. But we’re looking at this through a relational harm reduction lens. What’s the possible harm if we force or push when someone’s not ready and they don’t have access to another coping mechanism? And on top of that, they’re often made to feel bad for using it.

Every time you’re told to get up, every time you’re told not to be in bed, is a reminder that you’re not meeting someone else’s expectations. If they had another alternative (realistic for them, not what we want it to be), they might do that. But right now, this may be what is possible.

This is the essence of my idea of relational harm reduction: what if what we are asking people to do (get out of bed), or not do (i.e. playing video games), is a coping mechanism for them? And is it possible that some of these things may be keeping them here?

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If we had to choose between someone stopping playing video games, and the worst-case scenario, which one would we choose?

I know that sounds extreme. But that is the far end of the can’t spectrum. What happens when we make someone feel bad for doing the only thing they know how to do to stay here?

I think about this with my husband and video games. There were periods when it seemed excessive, something to reduce, something to put a stop to. And sometimes a conversation about it is needed, which, believe me, I’ve had. It has caused me real frustration at times, feeling like I was taking care of the house and the kids while he was just playing a game with his friends. It did make certain things hard, no doubt.

But I also needed to ask why. What need was it filling for him? Sometimes it’s regulation, a way to get through an incredibly taxing day that no one else really knew just how hard it was. Sometimes it’s socialization. Sometimes it’s just fun. Sometimes it’s life-saving.

Not everything is a survival mechanism. But some things are, even things that we don’t want to be.

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The more someone pushes, the more we tend to push back. The more someone asks, the more annoyed and frustrated we get. We have to be honest that our approach may actually be…counterproductive.

What might open up if we stopped asking — someone to do or not do something — before we ever get to acceptance? Because Stopping The Ask is separate from accepting. The first part isn’t “I now feel at peace with this.”

It’s about stopping the demand for them to be different, even if you’re not at the point of acceptance yet.

And stopping the ask does something for the person doing the asking, too. What kind of pressure does that take off you?

What kind of energy does that remove from yourself and the relationship? Instead of constantly being: "hey, get out of bed," "hey, stop playing video games," "hey, you’re not meeting my expectations for where I want you to be right now” I really want your can’t…to be a won’t.

Doing all of that, even when we care, even when we’re well intentioned, can take a lot out of us. I know I’ve been there. Wanting my mom to do something she wasn't capable of doing. What if that energy could be used for something else?

Should my mom have to change to fit my expectations? Or should my expectations change to fit where she’s actually at?

Even when we have someone's best interest in mind, is this thing actually harming anyone? Or is it just not what we wanted them to do?

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You don’t have to like someone’s coping mechanism to consider that it might be the only one they have access to right now.

There’s always a reason. Even if we don’t know what it is. Even if we don’t understand it. Even if we don’t like it.

Before asking someone to change, it might help to ask first:

What might this behavior be doing for them that I can’t see?

And if I’m wrong about can’t versus won’t, which mistake costs less?

Can I try one hour or one day of stopping the ask?

Here’s to the ones questioning, learning, unlearning, repairing, and growing, even when it’s messy. I’m right here with you.

- Sam

If you found this helpful, you might also enjoy this podcast episode on Safety