Intentionally saying "No" More

The danger of always saying yes is that it slowly teaches you to disappear. Every time you say yes when your whole body is saying no, you’re prioritizing someone else’s desire over your own. On the surface it looks kind, generous, or accommodating. But underneath, it’s often rooted in fear—fear of disappointing someone, fear of conflict, fear of what might shift if you simply said, “No, that doesn’t work for me.”

For a long time, I said yes because I didn’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings. I assumed that my no would somehow damage the relationship, create tension, or make me seem selfish. But what I eventually realized is that constantly saying yes is its own quiet form of self-abandonment. It teaches the people around you that your time, your energy, and your peace are always available for the taking. And the hard truth is that when you do that long enough, you start to believe it too.

Not saying no is not neutral. It is a decision. It is choosing someone else’s preference over your own needs. It is putting yourself second even when no one asked you to. And the resentment that follows—because it always follows—belongs to you, not the person who made the request. That’s the part that hit me the hardest. I would say yes to my husband when I wanted to say no. Then I’d be frustrated, irritated, or depleted while doing the thing I agreed to. But the reality was simple: he asked, and I said yes. I owned that discomfort because I made a choice that went against what I truly wanted.

This led us to an important shift. Me and my husband are intentionally building the muscle of saying no to each other—honestly, gently, and without guilt. It’s practice. And we’re practicing at home so it becomes easier to say no to friends, family, and everyone else outside our home. Because if we can’t protect our boundaries with the person we love most, how are we ever going to protect them with other?

What’s interesting is that I have no issue saying no to my sons. None. I tell them no with clarity and confidence because I understand the logic behind it: safety, structure, routines, health, rest, or simply because the request doesn’t make sense. But here’s the thing—“No” is also logical. It doesn’t need a long explanation. It doesn’t need a presentation slide deck. If I say no because my spirit, my energy, or my peace is telling me no, that is enough. No.

Learning to say no is a form of self-respect. It is acknowledging that your needs matter just as much as anyone else’s. It is believing that you don’t have to sacrifice yourself to maintain harmony. It is trusting that the people who love you can handle disappointment, and the ones who can’t have been benefiting from your lack of boundaries.

I am still learning. I am still practicing. I am still building the muscle. But every time I say no when I mean no, I say yes to myself. And that is a habit I want to grow.