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When You Say Yes, But You Mean No

In the first few years of my business, as I was gaining traction and credibility, I started getting asked to do a lot of things.


Could I come speak to a class?

Could I serve as a judge for a pitch competition?

Could I give a talk at a conference?

Could someone pick my brain over coffee?

Could I donate my time, my expertise, my energy, my ideas?


At first, I said yes. To almost all of it.


Not because every request was aligned. Not because I had endless capacity. Not because I thoughtfully evaluated each opportunity and decided, “Yes, this is how I want to spend my time.”


I said yes because I felt like I had to.


I was afraid that if I said no, I would hurt someone’s feelings. Or damage the relationship. Or be seen as unwilling, ungracious, or difficult. I worried they would never ask me again. I worried my reputation would suffer.


Really, I was afraid. And when you’re operating from fear, saying no can feel like it isn’t even an option. So I kept saying yes.


Yes, I can be there.

Yes, I can help.

Yes, I can make that work.

Yes, yes, yes.


Meanwhile, my body was screaming no. I remember looking at my calendar and feeling this heavy dread settle in. All these commitments, scattered across my days and weeks, each one taking time and energy I didn’t really have to give.


And the resentment was visceral. It felt like a tightening in my chest. Like heat rising through my body. Like I had to swallow my own words just to get through the moment. There was this cacophony in my head, this loop of, I’m here but I don’t want to be here because I have this other thing to do that I’m not getting done.


And, of course, I tried to hide it. I tried to show up graciously. I tried to be helpful. I tried to make sure no one could tell how depleted or resentful I felt.


But masking how I truly felt didn’t make me more generous. It made it harder for me to understand my own boundaries. It made it harder to honor them. And it made it harder to show up with the kind of presence and care I actually wanted to bring to my work.


Saying yes when you mean no may smooth things over in the moment, but it often creates resentment later. And resentment is usually a sign that a boundary has been crossed, ignored, or never clearly named in the first place.




The Pause That Changed Everything

One of the most effective practices I adopted during that season was incredibly simple:

I gave myself 24 hours before giving an answer. That was it.


If I was in a coffee meeting and someone asked if I could speak for free at an event, I stopped answering on the spot. Instead, I would say something like, “Thank you so much for thinking of me. I’d love to learn more. Can you send me the details? I need to look at my calendar and see how this fits with my schedule. Can I get back to you?”


And here’s what surprised me. People almost always said yes. No one fell apart. No one said, “Absolutely not, I need an answer this second.” No one revoked the relationship because I needed time to think.


The only times I noticed real pressure to answer immediately were in situations that already felt transactional or misaligned. Someone was trying to create urgency. They wanted my yes before I had time to think, because they knew that once I stepped away and actually considered it, the answer might be no. That became important information.


The pause gave me space to move out of my automatic people-pleasing response and into a more conscious choice. Instead of reacting from fear, I could ask myself…

Do I have capacity for this?

Is this aligned with my priorities?

Does this relationship feel reciprocal?

Is this something I genuinely want to do?

What will saying yes require me to say no to?


That 24-hour pause didn’t eliminate all the discomfort. Sometimes I still felt anxious when I eventually said no. Sometimes I still worried about disappointing someone. But I could acknowledge the anxiety without letting it be in charge.


And I started reminding myself. If my boundary is a problem for someone, that tells me something important about the relationship. Because a healthy relationship can hold a respectful no.


The Problem With the Automatic Yes

I’ve worked with so many professionals who struggle with this. Women, especially. But men too. People who learned early that being agreeable, helpful, willing, and easy to work with was rewarded.


The eager yes gets praised. The person who jumps in, picks up the slack, stays late, volunteers, smooths things over, anticipates needs, and avoids disappointing anyone becomes “reliable.” 


Being reliable can feel good. Until it becomes a trap. Because the requests don’t stop. They come from clients, coworkers, colleagues, bosses, boards, committees, family members, friends, and strangers on the internet.


Can you just take this on?

Can you hop on a quick call?

Can you review this?

Can you help me think through this?

Can you lead this?

Can you fix this?

Can you make this easier for me?


Yes is so easy to say in the moment. It keeps the peace. It avoids the awkward pause.

It makes the other person happy.


But later, when you’re lying awake at night thinking about everything on your plate, or dragging yourself into a commitment you never wanted to make, your body remembers the no you swallowed.

 


When the Alternative to People-Pleasing Is Fighting

I once worked with a client who was struggling to set boundaries with her boss. Her default had been to appease him. To say yes. To absorb the urgency. To try to make everything work. But that wasn’t sustainable.


So she swung in the opposite direction. She started fighting him. Every new request became a battle. Every shifting priority felt like a threat. Every conversation turned into either appeasing or arguing.


And neither was working.


What helped her was not a more forceful no. It was a pause. She started saying some version of, “I hear____. Let me look into it and get back to you.”


That phrase changed the dynamic. Her boss felt heard. She didn’t have to automatically agree. And she gave herself time to evaluate the request instead of reacting to his urgency.


Sometimes, by the time they revisited the conversation, the demand had softened. What felt urgent in the moment no longer carried the same intensity.


Other times, she came back with clear options, “We can add this priority and get it done by next week. To do that, we’ll need to push this other deadline out or pause this other project. Which would you prefer?”


That turned the conversation into something more constructive. Not because she finally found the perfect way to make him happy. But because she stopped treating his urgency as a command. She created enough space to respond with clarity.


A Boundary Doesn’t Have to Be Harsh

Sometimes we think of boundaries as harsh. As if setting one means we have to be cold, abrupt, or unkind.


But a boundary can be warm. It can sound like appreciation. It can include curiosity. It can create space for a better conversation.


A boundary can be, “I’m not available for that, but I appreciate you asking.” Or “I can’t take that on right now.”


These are not dramatic statements. They are not cruel. They are not selfish. They are clear. And clarity is kind.


When we say yes while silently screaming no, we are not actually being as generous as we think we are. We are offering a version of ourselves that is already resentful, depleted, or divided. A more authentic yes requires the freedom to say no.




Your Challenge This Week

If this resonates with you, here’s my invitation. Notice where you are chronically saying yes while, in your head, screaming no.


  • Where do you feel the stress of that yes in your body?

  • What thoughts are going through your head when you say yes?

  • What are you afraid might happen if you say no?


Pay attention to the signals in your body and the thoughts in your mind. They are data.


Then consider what might help you create a pause. It could be taking a deep breath before responding. Or a go to phrase you can use, like, “I want to give this some thought before I answer.” The exact words matter less than the space they create. Because in that space, you get to move out of automatic people-pleasing and into a more grounded, intentional response.


As you create space to assert boundaries you have the chance to reflect. 

  • What do I actually have capacity for? 

  • What is aligned? 

  • What am I willing to give? 

  • What boundary do I need to honor?


And perhaps most importantly, take a moment to identify what will help you stay true to that boundary, even if someone else is disappointed. Do you have a friend that enthusiastically encourages you to say no? Is there a reward you can give yourself for asserting and holding a boundary? Or does the anticipation of how good it will feel to not have to do the thing you’re dreading do the trick?


Resource

If this resonated with you, I created a free PDF worksheet to help you break the automatic yes

 


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