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“You teach people how you are treated by what you allow, what you prevent, and what you reinforce.” ~Tony Gaskins
It was Tuesday afternoon when I said the words that saved my sanity: “No.”
Just two letters. But the burden I had been carrying for twenty-eight years was finally lifted.
My phone was ringing. again. She was my cousin, and even before I could answer I knew what she wanted. Can I see his kids this Saturday? I know this is your only vacation, but it would really help me.
I sat in my car in the grocery store parking lot and scrolled through my phone. My stomach got into that familiar knot – the knot I got every time someone asked me for something. Who whispered, “If you say no, they won’t love you anymore.”
But this time something was different. Maybe it was because I left therapy, where I spent the entire session crying about how tired I was. Maybe it was because I had canceled the same therapy appointment three times in the past two months to help other people. Or maybe it was because I finally realized: I’d been so busy being “helpful” that I’d forgotten how to help myself.
I let the call go to voicemail.
breaking point
For as long as I can remember, I was the person everyone called when they needed something. Do you need someone to cover your shift? call me Need a ride to the airport at 5am? I’m here. Do you need someone to listen to your problems for three hours? I will cancel my plans.
I told myself that it had made me a better person. a kind person. A valuable person.
But the truth is that I couldn’t admit that I wasn’t helpful. I was just getting scared. Afraid that if I stop being useful, I’ll stop being wanted, too. That “no” was a door I was closing on relationships I couldn’t afford to lose.
The anger increased slowly, like water filling a bucket one drop at a time. I smiled while agreeing to things I didn’t want to do, even at the cost of my health. When it wasn’t okay I said “It’s okay”. I prioritized everyone else’s emergencies while my own needs collected dust in the corner.
That Tuesday was different because I finally realized something: I had repeatedly canceled my therapy appointment to help someone move on. Later, as I sat in my car, I opened my calendar and counted down. Forty-seven times. I have canceled or rescheduled my needs forty-seven times in six months to meet other people’s needs.
Not an emergency. Wants.
I was drowning, and I had tied the anchor around my neck.
decision
That day, I made a promise to myself: I would no longer cancel my own needs to satisfy someone else’s.
I wrote it in my journal. I said it out loud in my car. I sent it to my best friend so someone else would know I had committed.
The limit was simple: My needs—healing, rest, health, and peace—were not negotiable. I will help others when I have the ability, not at the expense of my own well-being. And I will stop apologizing for having boundaries.
It felt powerful when I wrote it. But implementing it? That was terrible.
first test
The next day, my cousin called back.
“Hey! I know you’re probably busy, but can you watch the kids on Saturday? Just for a few hours.”
My heart started beating loudly. My palms became sweaty. Every cell in my body screamed, “Just say yes. It’s easy. Don’t move.”
But I thought about those forty-seven canceled appointments. I thought about how tired I was. I thought about the promise I’d made to myself less than twenty-four hours earlier.
“I can’t do this,” I said in a trembling voice. “Saturday is my rest day.”
silence.
“Oh. Okay. I thought you weren’t doing anything.”
There it was again. The guilt trip I was dreading. You’re not doing anything important, so why can’t you help me?
The old me would have bowed down. Would have said, “You’re right, I can move things around.” But guess what? Naya took a breath.
“Comfort is important to me. I hope you find someone who can help.”
More silence. Then: “Okay. Talk later.”
She hung up the phone, and I sat there feeling like the worst person in the world. Selfish. Meaning. Cold.
But also…light.
pushback
Not everyone responded as calmly as my cousin.
Over the next few weeks, I began to consistently enforce my limits. Every time, I felt the same terror – I mean, that I was destroying relationships, that people would think I’d changed (I had changed), that I was being selfish (I hadn’t).
Some people were really helpful. My best friend said, “It’s time. You deserve rest.” But others did not take it well.
A family member accused me of “not caring about the family anymore.” A friend said I “used to be very helpful” (translation: you used to do whatever I wanted). Someone actually said, “You’ve changed,” as if it was an insult.
And you know what? They were right. I had changed. I’ve stopped setting myself on fire to keep other people warm.
The hardest part was not the push and pull but the internal battle. Every time I said ‘no’, a voice echoed in my head telling me that I was becoming a bad person. Those boundaries were just a selfish excuse to stop caring about people.
But slowly, I started to see a pattern: The people who pushed back hardest were the people who benefited most from my lack of boundaries.
The ones who truly loved me? They understood. He made adjustments. They respected my boundaries because they valued me as a person, not just a service provider.
what changed
Six months after setting my first boundary, my life looked completely different.
My relationships actually became healthier. The people who stayed weren’t there because I was convenient. They were there because they valued me. We had a real conversation, not just me listening to his problems while mine went unspoken. I stopped feeling like a 24/7 emotional support system and started feeling like a friend.
My mental health improved dramatically. I stopped feeling resentful because I was no longer committed. I had energy because I wasn’t constantly running out. I performed better for the people I loved because I was helping from a place of abundance rather than obligation.
I respected myself more. Every time I respected my boundaries, even when it was uncomfortable, I was sending myself a message: Your needs matter. You deserve protection. You deserve rest.
And here’s what surprised me most: Some people who were initially withdrawn eventually began to set their own boundaries. My sister told me, “Seeing you say no showed me that I can do that too.” She was just as tired as I was, stuck with trying to please people, and seeing me freeing her gave her permission to do the same.
inconvenient truth
Setting boundaries taught me things I wish I’d known earlier:
Some people liked me only because I was convenient. When I stopped being available 24 hours a day, they stopped calling. It hurt a lot, but it was also obvious. Those relationships were transactional, not real.
My “helpfulness” was sometimes enabling. By always being there to solve other people’s problems, I was preventing them from learning to solve their own. I wasn’t really helping; Rather, I was creating dependency.
Saying yes to everyone else meant saying no to myself. Every time I said yes to something I didn’t want to do, I was clearly saying that my own needs were not important enough for protection.
Limits are not mean in the real sense, but they are necessary. They’re not walls to keep people out; They are guidelines for how I want to be treated. They are an act of respect for both me and others.
How to start
If you’re where I was initially – tired, angry, burdened with obligations you didn’t choose – here’s what helped me:
1. Identify your non-negotiables.
What do you need to protect your well-being? For me, it was time for therapy, rest days, and my own work. For you, it may be different. write them down.
2. Start small.
Don’t change your whole life at once. Pick a limit and practice enforcing it. “I don’t answer work calls after 7 pm” “I need twenty-four hours’ notice for help.” Start there.
3. Use a simple script.
When someone asks for something that violates your boundaries, try: “I understand you need help, but this doesn’t work for me right now.” You don’t need anyone writing a dissertation on why this is so.
4. Expect discomfort.
Guilt will come. Fear will come. Still maintain limits. Discomfort is not a sign that you are doing something wrong but rather a sign that you are doing something different.
5. Be persistent.
Limits only work if you enforce them every time. If you make exceptions, people will learn to push until you cave.
after a year
Last month, the same cousin called. She needed help with something, and I was not available.
“No worries,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. Talk soon!”
I didn’t feel guilty; There was no passive aggression. Just acceptance.
That Tuesday afternoon a year ago, when I sat in my car and finally said ‘no’, I realized I was risking everything. I thought people would leave, that I would be left alone, that setting boundaries meant choosing isolation.
Instead, I learned something more important: Limitations don’t push the right people away. They filter out the wrong people and make room for the people who matter.
People who love you will respect your boundaries. People who don’t were never in love with you. They were just liking what you could do for them.
And that two-letter word “no” didn’t make me as lonely as I initially thought. Rather, it set me free.
About Ikegwu Joy
Ikegwu Joy is a public health professional and youth coach. She helps people understand health risks early and make informed lifestyle choices to prevent disease.
