Let’s Talk About Boundaries, Shall We?
Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. I used to be a people-pleaser. A yes-person. A doormat. You name it, I was it. It’s not like I woke up one day and thought, “Hey, I wanna be a pushover!” No, it was a slow aquisition of bad habits, a committment to always saying yes, even when I wanted to scream “NO” from the rooftops.
It all came to a head about three months ago. I was sitting in my apartment, surrounded by 17 half-finished projects, my phone buzzing every 30 seconds with another request. I had said yes to:
- Chairing the PTA (which, by the way, I’m not even a parent)
- Organizing my best friend’s surprise 40th birthday party (she’s not even 40 until next year)
- Volunteering at the animal shelter every weekend (I love animals, but I’m allergic to cats)
- Joining a book club (I haven’t read a book that wasn’t a manual or a magazine in 10 years)
And that’s when I met Marcus. Well, let’s call him Marcus. We met at a conference in Austin, and he said something that stuck with me:
“You know, Sarah, there’s a difference between being kind and being a doormat. You can’t pour from an empty cup.”
Which… yeah. Fair enough.
So, How Did I Change?
First, I stopped apologizing for everything. Like, literally. I kept a tally on my phone. 87 times in one day, I apologized. For existing, basically. “Sorry for breathing your air, Dave.”
I started saying “no” to things. Small things at first. Like when my neighbor asked if I could water her plants while she was on vacation. I said no. And you know what? The world didn’t end. Her plants didn’t die. She found someone else. And I didn’t feel guilty. Well, not completley guilt-free, but close enough.
Then I got bigger. I quit the PTA. I told my best friend I couldn’t organize her birthday party. I stopped volunteering at the animal shelter (but I did adopt a dog, so it’s not like I abandoned my committment to animals entirely).
And you know what happened? Nothing. Well, not nothing. I got my life back. I finished projects. I read a book. I started saying yes to the things I actually wanted to do.
But It’s Not All Rainbows and Unicorns
Look, setting boundaries is hard. It’s uncomfortable. People might not like it. They might even get mad. But that’s their problem, not yours.
I had a colleague named Dave who took it personally when I said no to chairing a committee. He said, “But Sarah, you’re so good at this stuff!” And I said, “Dave, I know. But I don’t want to do it anymore.” And he pouted. But he got over it.
And that’s the thing. People adjust. They might not like it at first, but they adjust. And if they don’t? Well, that’s determing who’s in your life and who’s not.
Here’s the Thing About Weekends
So, I started saying no to things. But I also started saying yes to me. I started filling my weekends with things I wanted to do. Like checking out the events calendar weekend and picking something fun. Or just staying in and binge-watching a show. Or, you know, not doing anything at all.
And that’s when I realized something important. Saying no isn’t about being selfish. It’s about self-preservation. It’s about physicaly and mentally taking care of yourself. It’s about making sure you have the energy to say yes to the things that really matter.
A Tangent About Dogs
Speaking of saying yes, let me tell you about my dog, Max. I adopted him from the shelter, and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s a mutt, probably some kind of lab mix, with floppy ears and a tail that never stops wagging. He’s also the reason I started saying no more often.
You see, Max needs walks. And playtime. And cuddles. And I can’t do any of those things if I’m out volunteering or chairing a committee or organizing a party. So, in a way, Max saved my life. He taught me the value of saying no.
So, What’s the Takeaway?
I’m not sure there is one. I mean, I guess the takeaway is this: Saying no isn’t easy. It’s not fun. It’s not always polite. But it’s necessary. It’s how we take care of ourselves. It’s how we make sure we have the energy to say yes to the things that really matter.
And if anyone gives you a hard time about it, just tell them Marcus sent you.
About the Author: Sarah Johnson is a lifestyle writer and self-proclaimed boundary-setting expert. When she’s not writing, she’s probably walking her dog, Max, or binge-watching a show on Netflix. She lives in Austin with Max and a collection of half-finished craft projects.
