On being ... a good girl

By Ingrid Sapona

Some relationships and roles we have vis-à-vis others are immutable. For example, I’m the baby of the family. Doesn’t matter that I’m in my sixth decade — I will always be that and I’m treated as such in certain situations. But there are many relationships and roles we shape by our behaviour. For example, for most of my life in many relationships I’ve been seen as a good girl. As a child that usually meant doing as I was told. I didn’t find it hard, mind you, so why not? As I got older, being thought of as a good girl depended more on being studious and helpful. Again, as both these behaviours come pretty naturally to me, I’m pretty comfortable with that persona. 

But, there are times when being seen as a good girl is less than ideal. Recently, two very different situations brought this to mind. The first related to some volunteer work. I’m a relative newcomer to a volunteer committee. The committee holds a few events a year and various committee members volunteer to host each one. Sometime after the fall hosting assignments were set, the committee chair asked me to meet with her for a coffee. At that meeting she said the organization’s president suggested she ask me to co-host the event with her. 

I told her quite truthfully that of all the events, the one she’s working on is the least interesting to me. She smiled and said she understood, but she reiterated that she really needed my help. Knowing co-hosting was something I could do (though I really didn’t want to), ultimately I acquiesced. In consenting, I made it clear, however, that it’s not my cup of tea, but I would do it to help her out. (Read: I wanted to be a good girl.) 

At the event the organization president cornered me and said she hoped my co-hosting meant I’d consider joining the board. I told her quite plainly that I’m not interested in being on the board. She was taken aback by my response — clearly she thought she’d appeal to my inner good girl. Clearly offended, she huffed and said, “Well, I’m not going to beg”. My response was simply, “Thanks, I appreciate that”. She walked away and I could feel the good girl in me shudder, but grudgingly agreeing to join something isn’t particularly virtuous. 

In a further test of my good girl nature, someone from the same organization emailed me this week saying they understand I agreed to do X. I never agreed to any such thing. (No one had ever mentioned it to me, much less asked me to do it.) I simply responded that there must have been a misunderstanding as I’d not agreed to it and so someone else would have to be found. This time I didn’t even feel particularly bad for not going along — I just put my foot down.

Those little incidents were irksome, but nothing compared to a recent request from an elderly friend who asked me to help her navigate the U.S. health insurance maze. I was visiting her (I’ll call her Maggie) on a recent trip to the U.S. I love Maggie and in the past I’ve been happy to help her with things like her will and her home owners insurance. But I know nothing about the U.S. health insurance system. Other than being aware that it’s “open enrolment” time, which is why it came up, I’ve got no clue about the different coverage options or programs. Indeed, those of us living north of the border shake our head at all the ads and wonder how ordinary Americans (like Maggie) make sense of any of it.

I explained to Maggie that I can’t help because I’ve never even looked at such things and it’s very complicated. She insisted that there must be someplace I could call for help. She said that given my legal training, she was sure I could understand it all. I told her I didn’t think it was just a matter of making a call to get information. I explained that when my parents were alive my father looked after their health insurance and I never got involved. She was quite upset and we went round-and-round about it. 

All the drive home I felt terrible — like I had let her down. It means a lot to me that Maggie has faith in me and that she trusts me, but in this case, I think I was right to hold firm. I tried to take solace in the idea that making decisions that could prove to be detrimental to Maggie in the long run is worse than being of no help at the outset.

Anyway, though I’ve rationalized my behaviour in these different situations, the feeling of shedding my good girl status still niggles in the back of my mind. But, maybe it’s time to stop seeing my self as a good girl and instead embrace the notion of being a strong senior.

©️ 2025 Ingrid Sapona