I need to tell you about last Tuesday. It was one of those mornings where everything felt off. My favorite Earl Grey tea was steeping on my desk, my to-do list was sprawling across three Post-it notes, and my husband Bigby gave me that look he always does when he knows I’m about to break. You know the one?
Here’s the thing. I used to wear “yes” like a badge of honor, like somehow being perpetually exhausted meant I was doing life right. Between the endless Zoom calls, the “quick chats” that were never actually quick, and the constant stream of “small favors” that felt more like full-time jobs, I was drowning.
Let me paint you a picture of my breaking point. It was 9:47 PM. I was still at my desk. My third cup of tea had gone cold, and I was trying to finish a presentation while simultaneously texting back about helping with the neighborhood fundraiser. Bibgby quietly placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “Babe, when was the last time you actually enjoyed anything you were doing?”
That hit differently. You know what I mean?
Here’s what nobody tells you about saying no: it feels terrible at first. Like you’re letting everyone down, like you’re somehow less valuable, less kind, less everything. But here’s the wild part: the world doesn’t actually fall apart.
The first time I said no to a “quick favor,” my heart was racing. My palms were sweaty. I felt like I was breaking some unwritten rule of being a good person. But then something magical happened. I had an entire afternoon to work on a project I actually cared about, and I remembered what it felt like to be fully present.
Now, I’m not saying I’ve mastered this. Just last week I caught myself almost volunteering to coordinate the office charity drive while already juggling three major projects. But I’m learning, growing, finding my voice.
The funny thing is, people actually respect you more when you have boundaries. It’s like they suddenly see you as someone who values their time, and by extension, values others’ time too. Instead of being that person who’s always running late, always overwhelmed, always giving a half-hearted yes.
These days, I have a new ritual. Every Sunday evening, while enjoying my chamomile tea (Bigby insists it helps with sleep), I look at my calendar for the week ahead. And instead of seeing how much I can pack in, I look for spaces to protect. Time to breathe. To create. To actually live.
Because here’s what I’ve learned: saying no isn’t about being selfish. It’s about being honest. It’s about acknowledging that we’re human, not infinite resources to be depleted. And sometimes, the kindest thing we can do for ourselves and others is to say “I wish I could, but not this time.”
And you know what? That’s more than okay. It’s necessary. It’s powerful. It’s real.
So the next time someone asks you to add just one more thing to your plate, remember this: your time is your life, and you get to choose how you spend it. Even if that means saying no to good things to make space for the great ones.
Now if you’ll excuse me, petals, my tea’s getting cold, and I’ve got a date with my Kindle and the quiet afternoon I intentionally kept free.