Saying “no” has never come easy for me. As a people pleaser, I’ve always struggled to set boundaries and prioritize my own needs.
I’d commit to plans I didn’t have time for, help friends even when I was overwhelmed, and accept extra work projects that left me burned out.
I spread myself too thin trying to be everything to everyone, except myself.
That all changed last year when my tendency to overcommit led to a breaking point.
It started innocently enough.
My friend Sarah needed help preparing for a big work presentation. Of course, I said yes, even though my calendar was already double-booked. Late nights balancing her PowerPoint with my own deadlines led to frayed nerves and mediocre work for us both.
Then my neighbor, Hiten, asked if I could watch his cats for a week. Once again, I couldn’t say no, despite traveling for my job that same week. I ended up driving back and forth to feed the cats, barely sleeping, and nearly missing a flight.
The final straw came during a family visit when my aunt Wilma convinced me to be the parent volunteer for my cousin’s school bake sale. I’ve never even baked cookies before!
But did that stop me from agreeing? No.
I ended up staying up until 2 am baking burnt snickerdoodles and questioning all my life choices.
After that charred baking debacle, I realized I needed to change. I could no longer be the human “yes” machine without sacrificing my health, relationships, and sanity. I resolved to learn to say “no” — gracefully, but firmly.
It wasn’t easy.
Years of habit don’t unravel overnight.
I started small, declining social invitations if my schedule was packed. I’d suggest alternate days or ask for a raincheck. Pushing past the initial awkwardness, I realized people understood.
The world didn’t end because I said “no.”
At work, I started reviewing my workload before accepting new projects. If my plate was full, I expressed appreciation for the opportunity but turned it down or asked for help. My manager appreciated my honesty and problem-solving.
With friends and family, I set boundaries around my availability. I designated workdays as off-limits and left evenings open for recharging solo time. Kind but clear communication was key. I acknowledged their needs but reaffirmed my own. Phrases like “I wish I could but…” and “As much as I want to…” made saying no feel less confrontational.
It wasn’t just about declining more, either. I had to say no to my inner critic too. That judgmental little voice constantly undermined my right to personal space and care. So I made a self-care list — yoga, reading, bubble baths, anything that brought me joy.
Whenever my inner critic piped up, I’d drown it out by doing something from my list. Slowly but surely, I learned to honor my own wants.
Of course, I still slip up sometimes.
Just last week, my coworker Liam cajoled me into covering his Friday shift. A few days ago, I agreed to help my neighbor Rhonda repaint her living room, despite my packed weekend. Old habits die hard.
But each time I regress, I reflect on why I said yes when I meant no. What fear or guilt triggered me? How can I reframe the situation? What will really nourish me in this moment — rest, play, or something else?
I’ve come to see each “no” as an act of self-love. It honors my boundaries and affirms my worth. Of course, I still aim for kindness — a gentle “no” leaves both parties with dignity intact. But I know I’m no good to anyone, least of all myself, if I can’t say no.
So if you’re a yes-aholic like I was, start small.
Practice declining guilt-free. Honor your needs and worth. Seek support when you stumble. Be patient with yourself and keep going. With time, those two little letters will become a declaration of self-care.
You deserve to say no. Your needs matter. Start reclaiming your life, one “no” at a time.
