For the longest time, saying the word “no” wasn’t anything close to being easy. It wasn’t just the word; it was the explanation. It was the paragraph. It was the essay. If I said ‘no’ to anything, whether it was plans, a favor, or whatever, it felt like I needed to explain to people why. And still, the feeling of guilt lingered.
Somehow, “no” never felt like enough.
I’ve always been the type of person who doesn’t like to say no to people. So, even if I was tired, overwhelmed, or just didn’t feel like going, it seemed like yes was the better way to go. And if yes wasn’t possible, then I’d do everything possible to make my rejection sound more acceptable, including adding excuses or needing a good-enough excuse for it.
However, over time, it proved to be exhausting.
And I began to realize that most of my justifications were not even for anyone else; they were justifications for myself, because I didn’t completely believe in my feelings, didn’t believe they were justified in their own right, and thought I had to work hard to have the right to say no.
The truth is, I don’t.
Learning to say no without explaining myself has not always been comfortable. Saying no without explaining myself always makes me feel awkward. It always feels awkward to do so, especially if you are normally used to filling silences with an explanation or an apology. There is always that feeling of needing to keep explaining, of needing to ensure that the other person understands, lest they think that you are not nice.
But what I have quickly come to realize is that most people do not need an explanation but a simple answer.
And the right people will respect it.
Saying no doesn’t make me a selfish, dramatic, or difficult person. Saying no makes me a person who’s listening to myself rather than ignoring myself for the sake of the comfort of others.
I have also learned that overexplaining often invites negotiation. The more reasons you give, the more space there is for someone to push back. When you keep it simple, there is nothing to argue with. No is simply… no.
That doesn’t mean I don’t care; that means I care enough about myself to be honest.
This shift hasn’t been about shutting people out—it’s been about showing up more authentically. When I say yes now, I actually mean it. I’m not resentful, drained, or secretly wishing I had stayed home. I’m present because I chose to be there.
And when I say no, I don’t spiral afterward, wondering if I said the wrong thing.
And let me tell you, that has not been an easy thing to learn, and I am most certainly still working on it. There are those moments when the guilt creeps back in, when I want to explain myself just a little bit more. But what I do know is that protecting my energy is not something I need permission for.
No is a complete sentence.
And choosing myself doesn’t need any explanation.