The Birthday Party for 18 People Seemed Like a Good Idea Until...
When saying no feels like letting everyone down
Anna came to our session last week in full panic mode about her mom's 60th birthday party. She'd volunteered to host eighteen family members at her house, and as the date got closer, she was realizing what she'd committed to.
"I don't know why I said yes," she told me. "I don't have enough space. I don't enjoy hosting big parties. I always get stressed and end up snapping at everyone. But when my sister asked if I could host Mom's party, I just... said yes."
I asked her what would have happened if she'd said no.
"Everyone would have been disappointed. My mom would have been hurt that I didn't want to celebrate her milestone birthday. My sister would think I was being selfish. The family would think I don't care about Mom."
And there it was. Anna wasn't saying yes because she wanted to host the party. She was saying yes because she couldn't tolerate the possibility of other people being upset with her.
When approval becomes addiction
Anna has what I see in so many high-achieving women: a deep fear that saying no to requests makes you a bad person. She'd learned early that love and approval were earned by being helpful, being available, being the person who never let anyone down.
The problem is, when you can't say no to others, you're constantly saying no to yourself.
Anna wanted a quiet celebration for her mom—maybe a nice dinner out or a small gathering with just immediate family. She wanted to actually enjoy her mother's milestone birthday instead of stressing about whether the decorations looked good or if there was enough food. But she couldn't access what she wanted because she was too busy managing what everyone else might need.
"I feel like if I'm not constantly giving, people will realize I'm not worth keeping around," she admitted.
This is the core of people-pleasing: the belief that your worth depends on your usefulness to others.
The hidden cost of always saying yes
What Anna didn't realize is that saying yes when you mean no doesn't actually serve anyone well. When she hosts under resentment, she's not present. She's stressed, overwhelmed, and quietly furious at everyone for "making" her do something she never wanted to do in the first place.
Her family doesn't get the warm, welcoming hostess she thinks she's providing. They get someone who's martyring herself for their comfort and then resenting them for it.
"I realized I've been doing this my whole life," Anna said. "Saying yes and then being angry that people took me up on it. But they don't know I don't want to do it because I never tell them."
The conversation that changed everything
I asked Anna what she was afraid would happen if she told her family the truth: that hosting stressed her out and she'd prefer to contribute in a different way to her mom's party.
"They'd think I was selfish," she said immediately.
"What if they didn't?" I asked. "What if they said 'Oh, we had no idea hosting was stressful for you. What would work better for Mom's party?'"
Anna had never considered that possibility. She'd been so focused on avoiding disappointment that she'd never tested whether her fears were real.
So we practiced having the conversation she was avoiding. Anna called her sister and said something that felt revolutionary: "I realized I'm not in a good headspace to host a big party this year. I'd love to contribute by handling the cake and decorations, or helping clean up, but I think someone else should take the lead on hosting Mom's 60th."
Her sister's response? "Oh Anna, you've been doing so much for the family lately. Of course you need a break. I'll ask around about using the community center, or maybe we can do it at Mom's house since she has that big backyard."
No drama. No guilt trips. No accusations of selfishness. Just understanding from someone who actually cared about Anna's wellbeing.
What I'm seeing everywhere
Anna's story makes me think about how many women I work with who are drowning in commitments they never wanted because they're afraid of disappointing people.
The volunteer position you took because no one else would do it. The elaborate celebrations you're planning because you think you should, not because you want to. The responsibilities you've taken on because someone asked, even though you don't have the bandwidth.
We've confused being kind with being available for everything.
But here's what I've learned: people who truly care about you don't want you to sacrifice your wellbeing for their convenience. And people who do want that? Maybe their disappointment isn't something you need to manage.
The practice that's changing lives
Anna is learning to pause before she says yes to requests. She asks herself: "Do I want to do this? Do I have the bandwidth for this? What will I have to give up to make this happen?"
And if the answer is no, she's practicing saying that without over-explaining or apologizing. Just "I won't be able to make that work" or "That doesn't fit with what I have capacity for right now."
"It feels terrifying every time," she told me. "But so far, the only thing that's happened is that I have more energy for the things I actually choose to do."
What I'm curious about
Where in your life are you saying yes when you mean no? What are you afraid would happen if you started honoring your actual capacity instead of what you think people expect from you?
Hit reply and tell me. I think there are a lot of us walking around exhausted by obligations we never wanted, thinking we're being kind when really we're just being afraid.
What would change if you trusted that the right people will understand when you need to say no?
Anna is discovering that boundaries don't push people away—they help her show up more authentically for the commitments she actually chooses. She's learning that she can be a generous person without being available for everything.
You can be caring without being constantly accommodating. You can be supportive without saying yes to every request. You can be a good daughter, sister, and family member while still protecting your time and energy.
Talk to you soon,
Mary