The Joy of "Nope, Not for Me"

I first played paintball in my early twenties. For anyone who’s not had the pleasure of experiencing it for themselves, here’s the deal: you dress up in camouflage, run around a forest, and fire hard-as-rock paint pellets at your friends while they do the same to you. Winners come out smug and mostly unscathed. Losers come out splattered in paint that does an excellent job of hiding the technicolor bruises underneath.

I wasn’t a huge fan. As a friend and I compared injuries, I admired the tricolore bullseye stretching the full width of her arm and thought: I hope no one invites me to do this again for a while.

But what if I’d thought: I choose not to do that again.

A small shift, but one most of us only grow into once we’ve outgrown the skin of “fitting in.” Back then, FOMO beat the bruises every time.

Embrace Your Dislikes

Growing up, we’re encouraged to try new things, yet we’re not told to embrace our dislikes: in fact, we’re punished for expressing them. As children, many of us were quickly labelled fussy eaters or a cry-babies if we didn’t want to eat up and join in.

And adulthood doesn’t exactly let up. “Broaden your horizons!” “Life begins at the end of your comfort zone!” It feeds us the same message, disguised as motivational quotes.

But what if the opposite is true? What if staring down an exciting new activity and saying “nope, not for me” is the real power move?

Airsoft, paintball’s popular cousin uses “plastic pellets for a more realistic experience”, Google’s AI overview explains. That’s an invitation I’d take great pleasure in turning down.

Enjoying this? If you’re not yet a member of my weekly newsletter community, I invite you to join here.

Disliking things is important

Here’s the thing: there’s actually a psychological upside to saying no.

Research suggests that having clear dislikes helps reduce decision fatigue, strengthens our ability to set boundaries and define our sense of self, as well as protecting our limited time and energy for the things we genuinely care about. In short: knowing what you don’t want makes it much easier to invest in what you do want.

Our brains like efficiency. By cutting out activities that drain us (or leave us limping home covered in bruises!) we’re not being close-minded. We’re being selective. And failure to do so often leads to resentment, which is a poor use of our precious free time.

So why the constant drumbeat of “push yourself out of your comfort zone”? Cultural programming. Especially in the West, discomfort gets mythologized as proof of growth. Work harder. Stretch yourself. Sweat equity. “No pain, no gain.”

But growth doesn’t only happen in the stretch. It can happen in the refusal. In the quiet act of self-respect that says: I don’t like this, and that’s okay. As Susan Cain writes in The Quiet Power of Introverts: true growth can come from honouring our natural tendencies, and from rest and reflection.

Make Your “Not for Me” List

The tricky part is that most of us never stop to name what’s not for us. One way to lean into what we love and away from what we’d rather leave behind is to write a list of all the things that haven’t left us feeling energised.

Here’s how to make your “not for me” list.

Look at the present:

Notice which invitations you secretly dread saying yes to. Pay attention to the activities you feel relief when they’re cancelled. Track the hobbies, workouts, or social events that consistently leave you drained instead of recharged.

Look at the past:

Which shows or books did you abandon halfway through without regret? Which hobbies did you quickly grow tired of and why? Add any of these to your list and try to find common categories amongst them.

Look at the future:

What do you feel society will expect from you one year, five years, ten years from now? Note how these activities leave you feeling and whether any give you the sense of dread you’ve seen in the past and present activities.

Return to your “not-for-me” list periodically: it’s not for you now, but some items may shift over time.

There’s joy in being unapologetic about your dislikes. It’s not laziness. Not cowardice. Not a lack of curiosity. It’s discernment.

Every time we say “that’s not for me,” we free up space for what is.

Paintball isn’t for me. And whilst I doubt an invitation to play is coming my way any time soon, that clarity feels like its own small win.

I hope you enjoyed this read! If you’re not yet a member of my weekly newsletter community, I invite you to join here.