The Princess and the Pea, Revisited

Hans Christian Andersen would have been 216 years old this month. Remember him? He wrote “The Emperor’s New Clothes,” “The Ugly Duckling,” and “The Princess and the Pea”—a favorite of mine as a child. In honor of his birthday, I re-read “The Princess and the Pea.” I have to say I was underwhelmed and am struggling to remember what drew me to the story in the first place. I must have read or seen some adaptation, like this one.

In Andersen’s original story, the prince wanted to marry a princess. (Nothing new there.) During his travels he found several princesses, all with deal-breaking attributes. One stormy night back home a young, waterlogged girl, claiming to be a princess, knocked on the door. She didn’t look like a princess, so the queen tested her nobility by placing a single pea under her bed—a stack of twenty mattresses. The next morning the princess came down to breakfast, less than rested. She complained that she hadn’t slept and had been bruised by something under the bed. Thrilled to have found a true princess, the prince took her for his wife. The end.

I have many thoughts about this tale, such as does the prince realize what he’s getting into taking on such a high-maintenance wife? But, honestly, my first thought was I can’t believe she complained. 

We’re not supposed to complain. Especially a female. Especially as a guest. Right or wrong, that’s how many of us were raised. We learned to say “I’m fine” before “da-da.” 

There’s actually a good bit of research on complaining and how focusing on the negative can impact everything from your physical health to the well-being of those around you. I agree with that. I know that positive thoughts and speech do more for the world than griping does. But sometimes things aren’t right or we simply need to vent. That’s the reality, especially for someone like me who struggles to keep her mouth shut.

But in my mind there’s a fine line between complaining and speaking up—asking for what you need. Again, we female types aren’t supposed to do that. (Because what if we say something and then they don’t like us? Eek!) I’m great at complaining but not so good at speaking up. Check that. I’m good at speaking up for someone else, but when it comes to asking for myself, forget it. 

Maya Angelou said, “Ask for what you want and be prepared to get it.” Really? Was she sure?

This tendency is probably related to confidence or worthiness—or lack thereof. There’s also some martyrdom in there that’s neither polite nor noble. Whatever its root, not speaking up for yourself can be detrimental to your mental health, your personal life, and your career. 

Have you ever tried to negotiate your salary? I know people do this, though I’ve never been successful. In one instance a recruiter told me the salary and asked, “is that okay?” (She teed up the shot perfectly for me.) 

I summarized what I bring to the table and how they align to the requirements of a role that should elicit more compensation. (Swing.)

If only I had stopped there. 

But I kept talking. (Whiff.) 

I said good and useful things, but I never shut up long enough for the recruiter to respond. I suppose I was afraid if I stopped talking, I’d hear “no.” (As if that were the worst thing in the world.) The next thing I knew, I had circled back around to “it’s fine.” 

Of course I accepted the job because I was excited about the opportunity and the salary was only secondary (see the discussion of motivation a few months ago). In truth, the salary was fine. But I’m also confident in my skills and that what the company was asking of the position could reasonably call for a higher salary. Plus these days you only get a real bump in pay when you change jobs, not from annual increases (if your company can even offer those). I blew my opportunity and was so disappointed in myself. 

I have no lesson here and I share my shame as more of a cautionary tale. But I’m curious what others do. Between a lumpy guestroom mattress or a questionable salary, how do you speak up for yourself? How do you remain polite without being a doormat? (I’m not a doormat, but people-pleasing tendencies do sometimes cross over into that realm.) Are you comfortable asking for what you want or does the thought make you break out in a cold sweat?

In the meantime, I’ll continue to work on this personally and professionally, starting with learning to hush.

Thanks for reading.