Why do I keep saying yes when I want to say no?

There is a surprisingly small gap between being asked a question and hearing yourself say:

“Yes, of course.”

Sometimes the answer seems to come out before you've really thought about it.

• Can you help with something?
• Yes.
• Can you come?
• Yes.
• Would you mind?
• Of course not.

And then, perhaps five minutes later — or five hours later — comes the thought:

Why did I say yes to that?

You didn't really want to. You might not have the time. You may already have too much to do.

And yet somehow, once again, you said yes.

Why isn't saying no as simple as it sounds?

From the outside, boundaries can seem straightforward.

Someone asks you to do something. You decide whether you want to do it. If you don't, you say no.

Simple.

Except relationships aren't simple.

When someone asks something of us, we aren't necessarily just deciding whether we want to do the thing.

We may also be wondering:

• Will they be disappointed?
• Will they think I'm selfish?
• Will this make things awkward?
• What if they don't ask me again?
• Could I just manage it somehow?

By the time all of those considerations have entered the equation, saying yes can feel considerably easier than saying no.

At least in the moment.

The discomfort of disappointing someone

For some people, one of the hardest parts of saying no isn't the word itself.

It's tolerating what happens afterwards.

• Another person might be disappointed.
• They might not understand.
• They might try to persuade you.
• They might even be annoyed.

If you're accustomed to keeping things running smoothly, avoiding conflict or being someone other people can rely on, that discomfort can feel particularly difficult.

Saying yes removes it almost instantly.

• The other person is happy.
• The awkward moment disappears.
• Everything feels okay again.

Except now you have something you didn't want to do.

The discomfort hasn't really disappeared. It's just moved.

Being helpful can become part of who we are

There is nothing wrong with being generous, dependable or helpful.

Those can be wonderful qualities.

But sometimes they become more than things we do. They become part of how we understand ourselves.

• I'm the person who helps.
• I'm the one people can rely on.
• I'm easy-going.
• I don't make a fuss.

Once an identity like that becomes established, saying no can feel surprisingly significant.

It isn't simply declining a request.

It can feel as though we're behaving like a different kind of person.

And perhaps we're not quite sure how other people will respond to that person.

Then comes the guilt

Even when we do manage to say no, another feeling can quickly arrive.

Guilt.

We replay the conversation.

• Perhaps I could have managed it.
• Maybe I was being selfish.
• I hope they're not upset.

Sometimes that guilt convinces us that we've done something wrong.

But feeling guilty and being guilty of something aren't the same thing.

Guilt can simply be the uncomfortable feeling that comes with doing something differently.

If you're accustomed to putting other people's preferences ahead of your own, taking your own needs into account may initially feel wrong even when it isn't.

Notice what happens before the yes

If saying no is difficult, it can be tempting to focus entirely on becoming better at saying the word.

But it may be more useful first to notice what happens in the few seconds before the yes.

• What are you afraid might happen if you decline?
• Whose disappointment are you trying to prevent?
• Are you agreeing because you genuinely want to — or because saying yes feels easier than tolerating the alternative?
• And perhaps most importantly:
• Do you actually need to answer yet?

One of the simplest ways to interrupt an automatic yes is to create a little more space.

• “I'll check and let you know.”
• “Let me think about that.”
• “I need to look at what I've already got on.”

None of those is a no.

They're simply ways of giving yourself enough time to discover what your answer actually is.

A boundary isn't a punishment

Sometimes we imagine boundaries as something we impose on other people.

But a boundary isn't necessarily about controlling what somebody else does.

Often it's simply being clearer about what we will and won't do.

And that means other people won't always like our boundaries.

That's uncomfortable, but it doesn't automatically mean the boundary is unreasonable.

Healthy relationships have room for two people's needs, preferences and limits.

Not just the needs of whichever person asks first.



A different kind of yes

The aim isn't to become someone who says no to everything.

Nor is every reluctant yes a problem.

Sometimes we choose to do things we don't particularly want to do because we care about somebody, because something matters, or because relationships inevitably involve compromise.

The difference is choice.

A yes that you've consciously chosen feels very different from a yes that escaped before you realised you wanted to say no.

Perhaps the first step isn't learning to say no more often.

Perhaps it's simply giving yourself enough time to find out what you actually want to say.