Struggling to Say No
I’ve written before about my relationship with busyness. About breaking up with busy, creating more space, and choosing a different pace. And yet, here I am again, circling back to the same tension, not because I’ve failed, but because, it turns out, this stuff is more complex than I sometimes give it credit.
Lately, I’ve been spending more time with a question that sits underneath all of it:
Why is saying no so hard?
At first glance, it feels like a confidence or assertiveness issue. As if I just need to practise the words more. But the truth is, I can say no. I can say not now. My ability to speak the words is just fine.
So if it’s not about capability, what is it about?
When I slow down enough to look properly, a familiar set of drivers shows up:
Not wanting to let people down
Taking on more responsibility than is mine
Believing that if I don’t do it, it won’t get done
A fear of missing out
That little dopamine hit that comes from feeling useful, valued, needed
Worrying that if I say no, I won’t be asked again
And a deeper belief that so much of my value comes from being in service of others
None of these are bad things in isolation. In fact, many of them are strengths. They’re part of what makes me, well me and good at what I do.
But when I don’t stop to notice them, they start making decisions for me. And that’s usually when my time, energy, and attention get stretched thinner than I’d like - often without me consciously choosing it.
One of the biggest shifts for me has been noticing how binary my thinking can become.
If I want more space… If I want to focus on what’s important but not urgent… If I want a different pace…
Then I tell myself I must say no.
And suddenly no feels heavy. Final. Risky.
But life and work rarely operate in neat binaries.
As I’ve explored this more (both personally and with clients), I’ve realised how often we forget the middle ground. The options that sit between yes and no.
Being curious about something doesn’t mean I’ve committed to it. Having a conversation doesn’t mean I’ve agreed.
That’s been a big unlock for me.
One practical shift I’ve made is naming my curiosity upfront.
Instead of defaulting to yes, I’ll say something like:
“This sounds super interesting. I would love to know more and then can I ask for a bit of time to decide?”
That one sentence has changed how I make decisions. It creates space. Space to step away, reflect, and notice whether my instinctive yes is coming from genuine alignment or from habit.
I know not everyone has the same flexibility I do. I’m self-employed, and I’m very aware of that privilege. I’m fortunate to work with brilliant clients and kind, supportive people.
But the principle still holds:
You’re allowed to think. You’re allowed to choose.
Another uncomfortable truth? It’s hard to make good decisions if you’re not clear on what matters.
For me, that clarity keeps coming back to the same anchors: my health, those I love, my work. Having absolute clarity on these makes the choices easier - not easy, but easier.
Now, when something new lands, I try to slow myself down enough to ask:
If I say yes to this, what am I saying no to?
If I say no to this, what am I saying yes to?
How does this work with what matters most?
Because being in service of others doesn’t mean endlessly depleting myself. In fact, the opposite is true. The best work I do comes from having enough energy, space, and intent to give.
One of the most helpful reframes I’ve been offered through coaching and therapy is this:
Yes, pleasing others might be part of my wiring. And I can please myself too.
Not instead of. Not selfishly. But also.
That shift allows me to stop fighting parts of myself that are deeply ingrained, and instead work with them — noticing them, challenging the limiting beliefs when they show up, and choosing differently when I can.
I don’t have this figured out. I may never get there.
What I do have is a growing awareness of what’s driving my decisions and a bit more courage to pause before I respond. Sometimes that pause leads to a yes. Sometimes it leads to a no. And sometimes it leads to something in between.
For now, that feels like progress.