3 Hidden Costs of Saying Yes When You Don’t Mean It

You know what you want. You can feel it in your bones.

But the moment you imagine saying it out loud, your chest tightens, your throat closes, and before you know it, you’ve said “yes” again. If you’ve ever wondered why it’s so hard to say no—or how to say no without guilt—you’re not alone.

It’s one thing to know what you want, and another to say it out loud when you worry it might disappoint someone else. That’s often where we get stuck—choosing silence or going along because it feels easier than speaking our truth. Having simple scripts to lean on takes the pressure off those moments, making “no” feel lighter and more doable. And underneath the words, what you’ll really find is the relief of honoring your needs without guilt, the freedom of choosing yourself without apology, and the beginnings of self-trust in the moments that matter most.

Why Saying No Feels So Hard

Recognizing what your soul truly wants can be difficult—especially in today's world, where there are so many distractions preventing you from knowing. Naming your desires is the first step toward living in a way that matches what matters most to you. And if you’re still uncovering your values, here’s a post that helps with that: 6 Questions That Will Show You If Your Core Values Are Really Yours.

And once you know, then it’s time to speak it out loud—and sometimes that can be the hardest part of this process. Many of us aren’t avoiding the thing we want; we’re avoiding the discomfort of someone else’s reaction. That’s one reason saying no without guilt feels almost impossible.

From a neuroscience perspective, our brains are wired to keep us connected to others. Disappointing someone—even in a small way—can light up the same threat centers in the brain as physical danger. No wonder saying no feels so uncomfortable.

And if you grew up in a culture where you were encouraged to conform rather than speak your truth, maybe this isn’t something you’ve practiced a lot.

So it’s no wonder it feels hard.

I remember feeling this so clearly during my consulting years. I came into consulting late in life. I quickly realized the culture thrived on people who were willing to say “yes” to “doing it all.”

Saying yes to all the late-night Zoom calls, networking happy hours, employee resource groups, and every opportunity to prove yourself for the next-level position.

It would’ve been easy to get swept up in that current. But I made a conscious choice not to. It all started during the pandemic when I had an 18-month-old at home, and then my family went through a couple more losses of family members. I made a conscious choice not to chase the gold stars at work.

I got really clear about what I actually wanted, which was flexibility to be with my family and ultimately out of the corporate world.

I set boundaries around my workload (with my team and my clients). Did people notice? Sure. Some probably thought I lacked ambition. But every time I said “no” to overextending myself, I was really saying yes to myself. I was protecting my energy and aligning with what I wanted for my future.

I was slowly moving away from a life that didn’t fit me anymore. The cost was real—I may not have been on the “fast track” for promotion. But the relief was even palpable. Each boundary I set was a reminder that I could choose differently, even in a culture built on more, more, more.

Struggling to speak your truth doesn’t mean anything is wrong with you—it simply means you’re human. Most of us were never taught how to do it, so of course it feels hard now.

The Cost of Silence (and Why It’s Not Worth It)

On the surface, saying yes feels easier. You keep the peace, you avoid awkwardness, and you sidestep guilt. But the truth is—it’s rarely just one yes. It’s the way those yeses stack over the years, and it’s why so many of us go searching for how to stop people pleasing.

Like when I said yes to becoming a recruiter—even though I’m an introvert and the thought of spending eight hours a day cold-calling candidates and making small talk drained me before I even started.

Or the times I said yes to parties with friends, knowing I’d spend hours listening to loud music in crowded rooms, with endless small talk with people I didn’t know—while secretly wishing I could be home with a book.

Or even getting married young at 19, more out of fear of being alone than out of clarity about what I actually wanted for my life.

Each of those yeses felt easier in the moment. But over time, they pulled me further away from myself.

One yes doesn’t undo you.
But years of them?
They add up.
To exhaustion.
To resentment.
To living a life that looks fine on the outside but feels disconnected on the inside.

And maybe that’s the quietest cost of all: when everyone else believes you’re fine, you start to lose touch with the part of you that knows you’re not.

Silence feels easier in the moment. But in the long run, it costs more than the hardest “no” ever could.

And here’s something that’s important to add: I made the best choices I could at the time, and I don’t beat myself up for them. I know I’ll make plenty more choices in my lifetime that aren’t perfectly aligned. This isn’t about being flawless—it’s about choosing alignment a little more often over time. So if you’ve said yes to things in your past that you didn’t really want, give yourself some grace.

You’re Not Responsible for Their Reactions

One of the biggest reasons we say yes when we mean no is the fear of how the other person will respond. The worry of how to say no without disappointing others can feel so heavy, it keeps us silent. Will they be disappointed? Upset? Hurt? Will they think less of me?

Here’s the truth: their reaction isn’t your responsibility.

Your responsibility is to speak your truth with as much clarity and care as you can. How they receive it belongs to them—their expectations, their personality, their story. You can’t control that. And trying to manage both sides—your truth and their emotions—is what leaves you feeling drained and resentful.

Mel Robbins writes about this in The Let Them Theory. Her reminder is simple:
“It’s not your job to protect everybody else from feeling emotions. Your job and responsibility is to live your life in a way that is aligned with your values, and in a way that gets you.”

I had to learn this the hard way.

Years ago, my daughter was stillborn, and my dad passed away unexpectedly six weeks later. I was distraught. There was so much to take care of with my dad’s estate. My siblings were stepping in, and I wanted to be there too. But after just one conversation, I knew I didn’t have the capacity to keep showing up for it.

Saying I couldn’t be there was hard. I didn’t want to disappoint my brother or sister. I didn’t want to drop more work on their shoulders. I worried about how they might react.

In the end, I chose to speak my truth. And when I finally did, they understood.

In this case, my fears never came true—my siblings were understanding, thank God. But if I had known this earlier, I wouldn’t have carried so much worry. I might have told them sooner. I wouldn’t have wasted so much emotional and mental energy bracing for their reaction. I would have had that energy for my grief.

That doesn’t mean we stop caring about people. It means we stop carrying what was never ours to hold.

The freedom comes in remembering: I am responsible for my words, my tone, my clarity. I am not responsible for someone else’s reaction.

When you can separate the two, saying no gets lighter. It no longer feels like you’re letting someone down—it feels like you’re honoring yourself and trusting them to manage their own feelings.

Gentle Scripts to Lean On

Now that you know why saying no is hard—and what it costs—you need something practical to lean on in the moment. That’s why having gentle ways to say no matters—it makes alignment lighter, more doable, and more human.

Think of these scripts as scaffolding. Borrow them until you feel steady enough to create your own. Having language ready takes some of the heat out of the moment—so instead of fumbling for words, you can focus on standing in your truth.

For all of these, timing matters. Don’t try to bring up something important while someone is distracted. Find a time when the other person is available to listen, so the conversation has space to breathe.

At Work

• Clarifying the Ask
  I appreciate the offer to be a part of [insert opportunity]. It does sound like something I’d be interested in exploring. Could you share a few more details about the ask? Specifically, what skills are you looking for, how long is the commitment, what’s the weekly time expectation, and how is the project being supported by others?

• Balancing Workload
  I appreciate that you thought of me, and I also want to make sure my workload stays balanced. Is there something that could come off my plate to create space for me to take this on?

• Saying No Clearly
  Thank you for thinking of me. It does sound like an interesting opportunity, but if this is something you need support with right now, I’m probably not the right fit. I’m fully engaged with my current commitments and wouldn’t be able to give it the attention it deserves.

With Family

• Stepping Back from a Responsibility
  I love you, and our relationship means so much to me. I want to talk to you about [x]. I’ve realized I don’t have the space to keep up with [x] right now. I need to step back for a bit. I don’t want this to affect our relationship, but I recognize stepping back will impact you.

• Hosting a Relative
  I’d love to see you, but I can’t host right now. Can we connect while you’re here? Let’s make a plan that works for both of us.

• Parenting Choices
  I understand that’s how you’d do it, and we all get to make choices about how to raise our kids. I’m choosing to do things differently, and I’m trusting myself to make the decision that I feel is right for my child and our family.

With Friends / Social

• Turning Down an Invitation
  I love that you thought of me, and I wish I had the space to join. I need to say no this time, but I hope it’s a wonderful night.

• Offering an Alternative
  I can’t make it to [the event] this time, but I’d really love to catch up soon. Can we plan a coffee or walk together instead?

• Protecting Your Downtime
  I’ve been carrying a lot lately, and I need a quiet night to recharge. I’ll miss being there, but I’ll be thinking of you and cheering you on from home.

What You Gain When You Choose You

Saying no—even to the smallest ask—shifts something every time.

You start to feel relief—less second-guessing, less heaviness. You begin to notice freedom—the realization that you don’t have to apologize for having needs. And sometimes the realization that you worried about how someone else would react and they totally understood.

Each time you align, you build self-trust—the quiet confidence that comes from honoring what your body, heart, and mind are actually asking for.

Choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s how you step into alignment and create a life that matches who you truly are.

Saying no isn’t about pushing others away—it’s about staying true to yourself so you can show up more fully in the relationships that matter most.

Taking This Into Your Own Life

Knowing what you want is one thing, but finding the words to honor it is another. Scripts and a little courage can shift those moments—taking what feels impossible and making it lighter, doable, and aligned with who you really are.

So let me ask you: Where in your life are you saying yes when your whole body is whispering no?

If this is speaking to you, I’d love to keep walking alongside you. My weekly KTInights newsletter is a gentle space filled with reflections, tools, and encouragement to help you tune into what you really need—and start practicing how to honor it. You don’t have to figure it out alone. 💜