I’m still working on this one. My “no’s” usually come out as “nyes’s”—everyone who knows me knows this.
Last week, a friend asked me to babysit her dog. My mouth said “yes” before my brain even processed the question. It’s like I have an automatic yes-reflex, deeply embedded from 61 years of practice.
Problem was, her dog has separation anxiety. Severe, clinical, sounds-like-someone’s-being-murdered separation anxiety.
I spent two days listening to her dog cry. And my dog cry in sympathy. Or maybe he was just crying because he had to listen to her whine. Either way, both dogs cried, I got no sleep, no work done, and spent the entire time wondering why I couldn’t just say “no.”
Lesson learned? Apparently not, because yesterday I said yes to planning another committee event I don’t want to attend.
The High Cost of Terminal Niceness
At 61, I’ve calculated the cost of my yes-addiction:
- Approximately 10,000 hours at events I didn’t want to attend
- Countless weekends lost to obligations I created
- Chronic exhaustion from overcommitment
- Resentment that feels like acid in my chest
- Missing my own life while managing everyone else’s
The real kicker? People don’t even appreciate it. They just expect it. “Ask Susie, she’ll do it” has become my reputation. Not “talented Susie” or “creative Susie”—just “available Susie.”
Where This Disease Comes From
Women of my generation were trained from birth: Be nice. Be helpful. Don’t make waves. Your value comes from what you do for others.
I absorbed it all. Good girls say yes. Good girls help. Good girls don’t have boundaries—they have open doors and endless availability.
At 25, this made me popular. At 40, it made me exhausted. At 61, it’s making me angry.
The Friend Who Called Me Out
Six months ago, after I complained about being overwhelmed, my friend Laura said: “You know you do this to yourself, right?”
I started listing all my obligations, how I HAD to do these things.
“No,” she interrupted. “You CHOSE to. Every yes is a choice. Stop pretending you’re a victim.”
I wanted to throw my coffee at her. Because she was right.
My Recovery Attempts (The Failures and Semi-Successes)
The 24-Hour Rule
I promised myself I’d wait 24 hours before saying yes to anything. This worked exactly twice. Now I just say, “Yes! But let me check my calendar,” then immediately text back “Yes, I can do it!” defeating the entire purpose.
The No November Experiment
I decided to say no to everything for a month. Lasted three days. Someone asked me to bring cookies to a meeting, and I brought three dozen homemade ones.
The Boundary Script
I wrote out responses: “I’m unable to commit to that right now.” “That doesn’t work for my schedule.” “I need to prioritize other obligations.”
What I actually say: “Yes! Of course! Happy to help!”
The script remains unused in my phone notes.
The Tiny Victories
But I’m getting better. Microscopic progress, but progress:
- I said no to chairing a committee (then joined it anyway, but still)
- I left a party at 9 PM instead of staying to help clean up
- I didn’t volunteer when they asked for someone to organize the fundraiser
- I let a call go to voicemail when I knew it was a request
- I said “I’ll think about it” instead of immediate yes (twice!)
What I’m Learning (Slowly, Painfully)
Every yes to them is a no to me. When I say yes to babysitting anxious dogs, I say no to my peace. When I say yes to committees, I say no to my art. When I say yes to other people’s priorities, I say no to my own.
And here’s the cosmic joke: The world doesn’t end when I say no. The person finds someone else. The event happens without me. Life continues.
My worth isn’t measured in yeses. It never was.
The New Experiment: Uncomfortable No’s
My therapist (yes, I finally got one) suggested I practice being uncomfortable. Say no and sit with the discomfort instead of immediately fixing it with a yes.
It feels like wearing shoes on the wrong feet. Everything in me wants to fix it, smooth it over, make it better.
But I’m learning to let people be disappointed. To let them figure it out. To not be the solution to every problem.
The Permission I’m Giving Myself (And You)
You’re allowed to:
- Disappoint people
- Have boundaries
- Prioritize your peace
- Say no without explaining
- Change your mind
- Be unavailable
- Not be the solution
- Let others figure it out
- Value your time
- Choose yourself
The Truth at 61
I’m probably never going to be good at no. It’s too deeply programmed, too many years of practice. But I’m getting better at “not right now” and “let me think about it” and sometimes even “that doesn’t work for me.”
Baby steps for a recovering people pleaser.
Next week, another friend wants me to help move. My automatic yes is already forming. But maybe, just maybe, I’ll remember the anxious dog, the sleepless nights, the resentment that burned.
Maybe I’ll say “I hope your move goes well” instead.
Maybe.
Probably not.
But maybe.
