Why Saying ‘No’ Might Be the Most Loving Thing You Do
For a long time, I lived as if my worth was measured by how much I could give away.
I said yes to everyone—because if I didn’t, what would they think?
That I wasn’t dependable?
That I wasn’t loving enough?
That I wasn’t “good” at this whole motherhood/wife/friend/human thing?
So I kept saying yes.
Yes, I’ll volunteer.
Yes, I’ll bake something.
Yes, I’ll help you move.
Yes, I’ll take on that extra project.
Yes, I’ll listen, I’ll show up, I’ll make it happen.
But what people didn’t see was what each yes was costing me.
When Yes Becomes a Chain
Here’s the thing about being the reliable one, the capable one: people start to expect it.
You say yes enough times, and suddenly it’s not a gift anymore—it’s the default.
It’s assumed you’ll handle it.
It’s assumed you’ll pick up the slack.
It’s assumed you’ll bend yourself to fit what everyone else needs.
But behind all those yeses?
Is a woman who hasn’t sat down in weeks.
A mom who can’t remember the last time she laughed without feeling rushed.
A wife who feels more like a ghost moving through the motions than a partner.
And no one notices—until you finally break.
The Day I Couldn’t Keep Saying Yes
I hit my breaking point not in some big dramatic way, but in a hundred tiny moments that bled into each other.
The straw that broke me was so small it sounds silly—I forgot to sign a permission slip. Just one slip.
But the tears that poured out weren’t about a piece of paper.
They were about years of yeses piling up until there was nothing left of me.
And here’s what hit me hardest: all the people I was breaking myself for? They weren’t the ones picking me up off the bathroom floor.
The Truth About No
I used to believe no was selfish.
But I’ve learned no can actually be one of the most loving things you say.
No protects the mom who’s been running on fumes.
No guards the marriage that’s slowly being buried under exhaustion.
No keeps your kids from growing up with a mother who is physically present but emotionally absent.
No reminds the people around you that you’re not a machine. You’re a person.
Because love doesn’t mean being available for everyone, all the time, at your own expense. That’s not love—that’s depletion.
To the Ones Who Expect Everything
If you’ve grown used to my yes—if you’ve come to expect it every time—I need you to hear this:
I can’t keep giving all of me away.
My no doesn’t mean I don’t care.
It doesn’t mean I don’t love you.
It doesn’t mean I won’t ever show up.
It means I want to keep showing up for the long run. Whole. Healthy. Still standing.
Because the truth is, the people who demand everything from you will take it. Not because they’re cruel, but because they don’t see the cost. And sometimes, love looks like showing them the boundary.
Saying Yes Differently
Now, my yes has changed.
I don’t give it to every request, every expectation, every good-but-draining opportunity.
I give it to what matters most.
Yes to my husband when he needs me—not just my chores.
Yes to my kids when they ask me to play, even if the dishes wait.
Yes to myself, because I can’t keep pouring from an empty cup.
And that means sometimes, my no is the most loving thing you’ll hear from me.
Friend, if you’re drowning under the weight of everyone else’s expectations, I want you to know:
You’re allowed to stop.
You’re allowed to draw a line.
You’re allowed to let no be your holy, sacred yes—to yourself and to the people who matter most.
Because being everything to everyone will destroy you.
And being true to yourself? That’s the kind of love that lasts.