26JJ-CPM_Working-Skeleton-Layout_20260406-NT - Flipbook - Page 36
“A clear no is, weirdly, an act
of generosity. It tells people
exactly where you stand.”
By: Carrigan Brady
I
used to be really good at yes. Yes to the lastminute favor. Yes, to the committee nobody else
wanted to join. Yes to the friend who needed a ride
at 6 am, even though I had an early meeting and
hadn’t slept well. I’d say yes and then spend the next
hour composing a resentful internal monologue in
the shower. Sound familiar?
Here’s what nobody tells you when you’re growing
up, people-pleasing your way through life: yes isn’t
always kind. Sometimes it’s just easier. Easier than
the awkward pause. Easier than watching someone’s
face fall. Easier than explaining yourself to someone
who might push back. So you say yes, and you smile,
and you quietly add one more thing to the pile.
The turning point for me — and for a lot of women
I know — wasn’t dramatic. It was more like a slow
realization. I was overcommitted, under-rested, and
vaguely annoyed at everyone around me, which is
usually a sign that I was the problem. Not them. Me.
I was the one who kept saying yes.
So I started practicing no. Not the apologetic kind
— “I’m so sorry, I just have so much going on right
now, I wish I could, maybe next time?” That’s not a
no. That’s a yes, wearing a disguise. I mean a real no.
THE SHIFT LOOKS LIKE THIS
Moving from I’m so sorry, I just have so much going on
right now,” to a simple, warm, “That doesn’t work for
me,” and meaning it completely.
WHAT YOU”RE REALLY PROTECTING
Moving from I’m so sorry, I just have so much going on
right now,” to a simple, warm, “That doesn’t work for
me,” and meaning it completely.
36 | COASTALPOLITAN
Short. Warm, but firm. “That doesn’t work for me.”
Full stop.
The first few times felt borderline rude. Like I’d
forgotten a social rule. But something interesting
happened: people respected it. Not all of them, right
away — but the ones who mattered did. And the
ones who kept pushing? That was useful information
too.
A clear no is, weirdly, an act of generosity. It tells
people exactly where you stand. It saves everyone
the slow bleed of a reluctant yes. And it leaves your
actual yeses meaning something — because when
you say yes, people know you mean it.
You don’t owe anyone a paragraph. Your time is not
a negotiation. And the more you practice saying no
like you believe that, the more you actually will.
