The cost of saying YES when you mean No

An Insight

Saying yes when we mean no is a form of self-abandonment.

A Story

Recently, I was in Vancouver for an in-person course. It was a full schedule and the days were long. I stayed with my mom and wanted to spend time with my sister who lives nearby. There are other people I care about who I wanted to see but knew I wouldn't have time to. In the past, me not making the effort has created relationship tension and built quiet resentment.

I could feel that tension building before I even arrived in Vancouver. Part of me wanted to make it work and fit everyone into a short visit. I wanted to avoid disappointing others. But another part of me knew that I didn't have the time or capacity to do that without exhausting myself. I felt caught between two uncomfortable options. I could abandon my own needs to meet others’ expectations, or I could honour my limits and risk disappointing people I care about.

I kept replaying what I should do, what I could do, and how my limits and needs might be received. And, instead of having the tough and honest conversation about my time and energy, I said yes when I should have said no to a visit at the end of a long weekend.  That choice created a lot of stress. I tossed and turned the entire night before the visit and woke with a cold, which required me to cancel.

This is what a lack of boundaries looks like.

Moving forward, I'm trying to approach these situations differently. I'm trying to communicate my capacity earlier, before expectations build. I'm trying to be specific about what I can offer and what I can't. I'm experimenting with saying no in a way that's clear, kind, and timely. I'm trying to allow others to have their feelings without taking responsibility for managing them.

I expect I'll find myself here again, caught between abandoning myself or disappointing others. When boundaries have been difficult, we don't resolve them once and move on. Growth is more like a spiral staircase. We revisit the same situations, the same pressures, and the same core vulnerabilities again and again. The pull to please, to avoid conflict, to maintain connection at our own expense doesn't disappear overnight. Each time we return to that familiar staircase turn, we're standing at a different level. We see more. We understand more. We have more capacity to respond differently. The situation may look the same, but we aren't. That is the upward movement of the staircase. Of growth.

So yes, I'll likely be working on boundaries until I die. Not because I'm failing to learn, but because I'm continuing to grow. My goal isn't perfection. My goal is to meet the pattern with greater awareness, honesty, and skill each time it arises. That is what change looks like.

A Reflection

Where in your life are you trying to meet expectations that exceed your current capacity? What would it look like to acknowledge your limit and communicate it clearly?

A Quote

“If you avoid conflict to keep the peace, you start a war inside yourself.” 

— Cheryl Richardson

An Invitation

If you're ready to communicate more honestly, set clear boundaries, and reduce the mental load that comes from carrying what is left unsaid, I'd love to support you.

Reply to this email to book a complimentary 30-minute session to explore what this could look like in your work and life. Or join my Flourish Under Pressure workshop, where we practice boundaries in a way that's clear, grounded, and applicable to real-life situations.