The other day, I found myself socializing with a family who had a small child. (Actually 3 small children, but only one is relevant to today’s topic.) She was about 6, I believe. Quite sweet, listened to her parents, overall agreeable. One of the things she frequently said, though, was “I can’t.” Nearly every time this phrase was spoken, it was used as a means to avoid a task she did not want to do. It wasn’t actually that she couldn’t pick her bowl up off the floor or change the program on the tv herself. It was that she didn’t want to. So, she said “I can’t” as an attempt to make her mother or another adult do the task so she wouldn’t have to.

This is a behavior I have seen in children before. They learn early that when they can’t do something, then someone else will do it for them. After all, they can’t. They then use it as an attempt to exert control in their world. To test the boundaries of how much they can control those around them. I realized, though, that it isn’t just children that do this.

The phrase “I can’t” is encountered frequently in adulthood, just as much, if not more so, than it is in children. I have heard this phrase used as a reality and as a manipulation. And have frequently been resentful or annoyed towards people who use it frequently. Seeing it as a way for them to foist their responsibility on to someone else. A triggering issue for me when the someone else is me. But I have also used the phrase myself technically when it was not true as well. And possibly even as a means of manipulation. Today, I wanted to look at the meaning of these two tiny words. The concrete meaning as well as the unique and multiple meanings this phrase can hold in a variety of situations.

I Can’t as a Statement of Fact

I want to start by acknowledging that “I can’t” often is a truth. I know there are probably plenty of parents, coaches, therapists, and others that would rally against me for saying this. There are many people that want us to believe this language is simply limiting and should be eliminated from our lexicon. But whether they like it or not, it’s true.

I can’t simply flap my arms repeatedly and soar into the sky like a bird. I can’t turn myself into a frog in this moment. I can’t tap myself on my forehead twice and make my brain magically work like everyone else’s. If we generally accept reality for what it is (and I know there is some philosophical/scientific multiverse theory here, but we are setting that aside today) then each of us have set limitations. There are concrete realities that, to our current generally accepted understanding of things, make certain tasks impossible to do.

There are also many things that are possible but are still beyond our reach. I can’t understand quantum physics. I can’t run a 5-minute mile. I can’t process the world like a neurotypical person does. All of these things are technically true right now. But it is potentially possible that I could, I just haven’t tried. Is saying “I can’t” in these situations limiting? Or is at an acknowledgement of the truth of how things are in this moment?

I could say something like “I can’t yet.” But in all honestly, I don’t plan on ever investing the effort into any of these things to make them true. I just don’t have the energy and available resources to apply myself to understanding quantum physics. I have no interest in running a 5 minute mile. And I do not want to process the ways neurotypicals do, and even if I did, the amount of energy, training, education, deep personality changes, and scientific break throughs that would have to happen to make that a truth is not something I have the money, time, or energy for anyways. So, in a situation like this, is it true to say “I can’t”? Because I can’t now, I can’t tomorrow, and most likely I can’t the entirety of my life. This is where the world of “I can’t” starts to become a slippery slope.

Can with Consequences

Another question of the reality of “I can’t” comes in when technically you could, but the consequences could be deadly. I can’t stop a speeding bus by jumping in front of it. I can’t eat sugar. I can’t work overtime. All of these things are technically possible, but the consequences, for me, would be dire. I could likely stop a speeding bus by jumping in front of it. Because once they run me over, the driver will likely stop. But doing this is going to result in sever injury and probably death.

Technically, I can eat sugar. I used to do it all the time. I desperately wish in this moment that I could. (Oh how I miss pie!) But when I eat sugar, my anxiety skyrockets, emotional regulation becomes extremely difficult, and I get headaches so severe the only thing I am capable of doing is lying silently in the dark, tears leaking from my eyes, as I fantasize about dying to escape the pain. I technically can work overtime. And have done so in the past. But every time I have done so, no matter the circumstances, I become suicidal. If I persist in the overtime, the thoughts turn into plans. And if I persist after this, I find myself having to fight myself at the wheel of the car to not run head on into a semi-truck. An experience I have had on multiple occasions.

Am I wrong, then, in saying I can’t eat sugar, or I can’t work overtime? I could add a qualifier, I suppose, I can’t for my health. I can’t for my sanity. I can’t if I want to be able to live a happy life. Saying “I won’t” feels like a lie. Saying “I won’t” feels like saying I have a much larger choice in the matter then I feel I truly do. If someone puts a gun to your head and demands your wallet, you do technically have a choice. But that choice is now severely limited because of external circumstances. After you hand over the wallet, and the cops review the situation with you, you end up saying “I couldn’t keep my wallet from them.” How would you feel if they corrected you and said, “no, sir, you wouldn’t keep your wallet from them.” You chose to give the person your wallet after all.

How much worse would it be if the police then told you there was nothing they could do. No report could be filed. No search for the perpetrator. Because no crime had been committed. Because, again, you chose to give them your wallet. Was it really a choice at all? Should you be demeaned and punished for your choice in this situation when the potential consequences were so huge? And the losses so comparatively minimal?

Many of us that have mental health struggles or come from a trauma background encounter this idea every day. We say we can’t to a lot of things because to do these things would be damaging and possibly even deadly. But society corrects us and tells us we won’t. That we have a choice. Therefore, the consequences of our actions, the lack of pie, the lack of money and career success, are solely, 100% our fault, our issue, under our control. That no help is deserved, no allowance should be permitted, because we have a choice. Which technically is true. I could choose to live miserably. I could choose to sacrifice the whole of myself. I could choose to die. But instead, I choose to not work overtime. And I choose to say I can’t work overtime. Because my past experiences have shown me again and again that I don’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter.

Can’t as False Belief

It’s possible, though, that I’m wrong about my reality. I mean, I have been wrong before. I don’t know how many times in my life I have encountered a situation and told myself “I can’t do this.” But I did it anyways. In some cases, I have not only survived, I have also ended up prospering from having overcome the can’t. Since I was a child my dream was to live sustainably, off grid, away from society. I told myself for the longest time I can’t do that. Initially it was “I can’t do that that, because it isn’t something people do.” When I broke away from societal propaganda, and realized that was actually a possibility, it became, “I can’t do that, because I am not a strong enough person. Because I don’t have the skills.” I decided to go for it anyway. And here I am, still not having all the skills, but can-ing all over the place in my off-grid life. (Though not yet literally canning, because this is a skill I still need to learn.)

I think this is the “I can’t” that the well-meaning folks in society are so often speaking to. These self-limiting “I can’t’s” that keep us from our dreams (or keep us from behaving according to societal norms, depending on the beliefs of the well-meaning individual). This “I can’t” really does actually mean “I won’t.”. After all, the girl that says she can’t live off grid, sets her mind and heart to it and does. The alcoholic that says they can’t stop drinking, one day finds the reason that makes them stop. The depressed person that says I can’t go on living, somehow manages to find the strength, medication, or help that lets them keep living. So obviously these “I can’ts” are just limiting lies, right?

Well, this is where the question of reality comes into play. Whose reality is more valid? The individuals on the outside who can see the forest, but not necessarily the trees. Or the person living the experience who can see the trees, but is blind to the forest? I truly believe that if I had thrown caution to the wind and attempted to go off grid a decade ago, I would have failed. The “I can’t” was a reality at that time. Technically, I could have succeeded. But my limiting frame of mind would not have let me. I was still struggling with depression and just trying to get through each day. I was still lacking confidence in myself, believing myself a failure that would never be good enough. I still held firmly to the belief that I was not worthy of any dream coming true, and that if I tried, the universe would smack me down with cruel intent for reaching beyond what I was allowed.

I would have failed, because I believed that I would fail. But I believed that I would fail, because I hadn’t done the work necessary to know that I could succeed. So, while the “I can’t” was a self-fulfilling prophesy, it was also a reality. The person who struggles with alcoholism that says, “ I can’t stop drinking,” and the person struggling with depression who says, “I can’t go on living,” are not actually lying at all. These statements are true. They don’t yet have a reason big enough to fight. They don’t have the support necessary to overcome. They don’t have the skills needed to cope. Someday there could be a reason. Some day they might find the type of support they need. Someday they might learn the skills. Caught in the moment of crisis, the only thing they see is “I can’t.”

Sometimes telling a person stuck in a “I can’t” situation that they can is helpful. It allows them to rely on someone else’s belief in themselves. To use it as a crutch until they can find their own stamina. But sometimes, it’s not helpful at all, because you are just invalidating the person’s reality. Instead of saying, “yes you can.” Maybe it would be better to ask how you can help them find a way to succeed. Or, for those of us too deep in the mire of despair, to simply work with them, without asking, to get the support, to learn the skills, to find the reason that will turn the “I can’t” into an “I can.”

I Can’t as Manipulation

The trickiest part of this, though, is how do you tell the difference between someone who truly believes they cannot and someone, who like the little girl at the beginning of my story, is simply saying the words so she will not have to fulfill her responsibility? The results of the person being honest and the person manipulating often end up the same when it comes to responsibility, in that someone else has to pick up the load. When my boyfriend says, “I can’t wash the dishes because of sensory issues,” whether that is a truth or a manipulation, the end result is still that I always have to do the dishes. When my mom said, with her behavior and words, “I am hurting too much to do anything more than sleep and drink for two years,” whether truth or manipulation, the result was the same. The household had to be taken care of and in the face of everybody else’s “I can’ts” I ended up being the sole person doing everything.

Here’s the thing about manipulation, though, manipulation isn’t always intended to hurt you. Ture, sometimes manipulation is done with cruel intent. The stereotypical “narcissist” looking to control and abuse their victim. Sometimes, though, manipulation is just an honest attempt to get needs met. For a lot of people who are severely struggling with mental health issues, this is what manipulation ends up being. They do not have the skills or the strength or the knowledge to ask for their needs to be met. Or history, personal or cultural, has shown them again and again that their needs will not be met. So, they manipulate. They create crisis or display histrionics. Not because they want to control you, but because they do not know any other way to meet their needs or are not being provided with any other way to meet their needs.

I have been guilty of this. Throughout my early 20’s, when I felt sad and needed validation, I would tell people that I felt like putting a bullet through my brain. I didn’t actually feel this way. But my childhood had taught me that any emotion short of a crisis would not get attention. So if I wanted love, attention, affection, or validation, I had to scream that need. I wasn’t intending to manipulate people, but I was manipulating them. I was forcing them to stop and pay attention to me no matter what. I didn’t know better, at the time. But I figured out there were better ways, and I made changes. Now when I am sad and need validation I can simply say, “I’m having a shitty day, can I get a hug and some understanding?” And I made sure that I have people in my life who will respond to my needs when I speak them. These skills and these relational changes mean I no longer have to manipulate.

Putting Up with Others’ I Can’ts

And, for me, that is where I draw the line with people whose “I can’ts” negatively influence my life. Whether they are manipulation is irrelevant. Instead, I focus on different questions. Are they attempting to change? Are they attempting to grow? Are they attempting to compromise? Yes, my boyfriend never does the dishes. But he does the car maintenance, even when it’s -14 outside, even when its raining. He was not willing, or not able, to do the dishes, but he stepped up and put in effort somewhere else that he felt he could. My mother, after years of seeking help, was finally able to admit the horror she had caused. She learned to use her words, to show affection and accept affection without manipulation and trauma. I kept her in my life. Even though the change was a slow one that took decades, I saw her attempts to try to change. I saw the effort she put in to attempting to change her “I can’ts” into “I cans” that would allow her to be a mother and not an abuser. I respected her for that. I chose to have a relationship with her because of that.

At the same time, though, for many years it was a distant one. Because the other reality when it comes to another person’s “I can’ts” is how much of their load are you willing or able to carry while they make these changes? Sometimes people are actively working toward change. But it is not an overnight process. So during that time you will still have to pick up their load, deal with the consequences of their choices. You have to decide how much you will allow in your life.

I have a very low allowance for “crazy” in my life. Crazy, to me, is drama and chaos. Choices made by others that force me to have to spend my resources to deal with their issues and the consequences of their choices. You may be a wonderful person who is actively trying to get their life together. But, if your issues are going to cause repeated negative fallout on me, I am usually not willing to have you in my life. Your chaos will trigger my chaos. And I know that I “can” deal with it, because I have before. And I now know I am strong enough, that I will again. But I don’t want to. So, I won’t. I don’t call this one an “I can’t” because in this situation I feel like I do honestly have a choice. So I make the choice and I own that choice.

Our Own I Can’t’s

When it comes to our own “I can’ts”, I think it is vital that we choose them, and not allow them to choose us. Words are powerful things in shaping our reality. We are, as I so often say, the authors of our own story. We have the power to write our own narrative. And this narrative is, in part, the words we choose to use.

I don’t think that “I can’t” is necessarily a bad statement. It can, in fact, be very empowering. But it can also be very limiting. So I encourage you, when you encounter an “I can’t” in your narrative to question it. To ask yourself about the validity of that statement. And once you know the validity of the statement, I encourage you to go one step further and ask yourself how the statement effects your narrative. Maybe the “I can’t” is very true in this moment of time. But maybe it is so limiting that it is worth the effort to do everything you can to change it. But then again, maybe that “I can’t” isn’t exactly true, but holding to it makes your life healthier and happier.

I can’t do quantum physics, and I’m ok with that. I can’t eat sugar, which I hate, but it protects my sanity. I can’t live without anxiety, and that is limiting my happiness. So, I will continue working on myself so that one days I can honestly say, “I can live a life not ruled by anxiety.” What are some of your “I Can’t’s”?

The I Can’t Attitude: Realism, Manipulation, or Something Else?

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Part 2: Why It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better: Relational Contexts of Initial Healing with Trauma