-
In My ‘NO’ Era: Because peace is expensive and I’m not budging anymore.
No Is a Complete Sentence: The Power of Boundaries in Creative Work
“No.”
It’s a simple word, but one with incredible weight. It’s cavernous, capable of holding its own without explanation or justification. It doesn’t need to be softened with “I’m sorry,” “but,” or “maybe next time.” It stands firm, a quiet declaration of self-respect and autonomy.
For creatives, learning to say no is a game-changer. In a world that often glorifies busyness, where the pressure to say yes to every project, collaboration, or opportunity feels overwhelming, “no” becomes a necessary act of self-preservation. It’s not selfish—it’s essential.
Why No Is So Powerful
- It Creates Space
Every time you say yes to something that doesn’t align with your goals, you’re saying no to something that could. Saying no clears the way for projects, people, and passions that truly matter. - It Protects Your Energy
Creative energy is finite. By saying no to tasks or opportunities that drain you, you’re safeguarding your spark for the work that excites and fulfills you. - It Builds Respect
A firm no communicates that your time and boundaries are valuable. It sets the tone for how others treat you—and how you treat yourself.
Why No Can Feel So Hard
For many of us, saying no feels uncomfortable. Maybe it’s because we’ve been conditioned to please others or because we’re afraid of missing out. But constantly saying yes, even when it’s against your better judgment, leads to burnout, resentment, and a loss of creative joy.
Here’s the truth: No is not rejection; it’s redirection. It’s not about shutting doors—it’s about choosing the ones worth opening.
No Is Cavernous
Think about it: “No” doesn’t need a companion. It doesn’t require a follow-up or an explanation. Its power lies in its simplicity. You don’t need to say:
- “No, because I’m too busy.”
- “No, but maybe later.”
- “No, I wish I could, but…”
- “It’s a No from me.”
You can just say: No.
Let it echo. Let it stand. Let it be enough.
How to Say No Without Guilt
- Be Direct: You don’t owe anyone a long-winded explanation. A polite but firm “I’m not able to take this on right now” works wonders.
- Practice: The more you say no, the easier it gets. Start small and build confidence in owning your decisions.
- Remind Yourself of Your Why: Each no brings you closer to the work and life you truly want.
Final Thoughts
No isn’t just a word—it’s a boundary, a decision, a gift to yourself. It’s a reminder that your time and energy are valuable and that not everything deserves a place in your life.
So, the next time you feel pressured to explain, justify, or soften your no, take a deep breath and let the word stand on its own. It’s complete. It’s enough. And so are you.
What’s one thing you’ve been saying yes to that you know deserves a, no? Let’s talk about it in the comments.
- It Creates Space
-
Just Do It Era: Taking the leap, even if the landing’s messy
I saw a post the other day that said, “I’m shortening the time between ideation and creation.” And honestly? I felt like he was talking directly to me.
Because if I’m being real with myself, I’ve spent way too much time sitting on ideas instead of bringing them to life.Not because I don’t believe in them. Not because I don’t have the skills or the resources. But because I’ve convinced myself that everything needs to be top tier before I release it out into the world.
The Perfectionism Trap
There’s something about the creative process that feels safe when it’s still in my head. In my mind, it’s flawless. It’s exciting. It’s the best idea I’ve ever had, because duh, I had it! But the second I start actually working on it? Doubt creeps in.
-
- Is this good enough?
- Should I tweak this more?
- What if it flops?
- Maybe I should wait until I have a better plan.
- Do people really need this?
Cue me staring at my unfinished project like it personally betrayed me.
And just like that, another idea gets trapped in the cycle of overthinking.
The problem with perfectionism is that it masquerades as preparation. I tell myself I’m “waiting for the right time” or “polishing the idea,” but in reality? I’m just stalling.
And while I sit on ideas for weeks, months, even years—someone else is out there doing the damn thing, figuring it out as they go, and actually making progress.
If You Don’t Act, Someone Else Will
I once saw a post that said something like, “When God gives you an idea, if you don’t act on it, He’ll give it to someone else.” I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember the exact wording, but whew.Whew.
Deep sigh.
The first time I read that, I had to sit with it for a minute.
How many times have I had an idea—something that lit me up, something that felt divinely inspired—but I sat on it too long? And then, months later, I see someone else doing it. Someone else launching the thing I thought about. Someone else stepping into the space I was too hesitant to claim.
And it’s not that they “stole” the idea—it’s just that I didn’t move on it, so it moved on without me.
Hate that for me.
Perfection Is a Moving Target
There is no perfect time.
No perfect strategy. No perfect execution. Creativity is messy. It’s trial and error. It’s putting something out there, realizing it could’ve been better, and then making the next thing even stronger.
But if I never start,? I never give myself the chance to improve.
Some of the most successful people aren’t necessarily the most talented—they’re just the ones who acted on their ideas instead of sitting on them. They weren’t afraid to launch, knowing they would definitely have to messy, adjust, and grow their idea.
Shortening the Gap Between Idea and Action
I don’t want to be the person with a million brilliant ideas and nothing to show for them.
So, I’m challenging myself to shorten the time between ideation and creation.
- Posting the thing instead of overanalyzing it. No more editing it to death.
- Starting the project before I feel “ready.” Because honestly, will I ever feel ready?
- Giving myself permission to learn in public. Cringe? Possibly. Growth? Definitely.
Because at the end of the day, done is better than perfect. And the more I create, the better I get.
Final Thoughts: Just Make the Damn Thing
If I’m waiting for the perfect time to start, I need to stop.
- That blog I’ve been thinking about? Start it.
- That project I keep postponing? Begin.
- That creative idea that excites me but also scares me a little? Do it anyway.
Because the sooner I start, the sooner I grow. And the sooner I grow, the sooner I become the person who actually makes things happen.
And if I don’t? Someone else will.
-
-
In My Checked Bags, Not Baggage Era: What I packed, what I left behind, and where I’m heading.
The Flights Are Calling… And I’m This Close to Answering
Every time I get an email from Going telling me about some ridiculous flight deal—$600 roundtrip to Thailand, $400 to Italy, $200 to Aruba—it takes everything in me not to drop everything, pack a bag, and go.
Because, honestly? What’s stopping me?
I have no kids, no PTA meetings, no standing Sunday brunch with the in-laws, no real reason not to just buy the ticket.
Except for one: the fear of not knowing what comes next.
The Art of Romanticizing Travel (And Yet, Never Going)
The funny thing is, I constantly romanticize travel. If a movie involves exploring ancient ruins, uncovering long-lost secrets, or setting off on a grand adventure, I’m already invested.
The Mummy is my holy grail of travel movies—the desert landscapes, the adventure, the sense of mystery, the pure chaos of it all. And don’t even get me started on The Tudors. People back then were just out here crossing entire countries for love, power, or because they got bored—and I can’t even book a flight when it’s on sale.
Under the Tuscan Sun? Please—if I had the money, I’d be buying a crumbling Italian villa right now.
And yet, despite this lifelong obsession with going, I stay.
The Internal Tug-of-War: Book It or Close the Tab?
Every time I get an email about a too-good-to-be-true flight deal, I open it, stare at the destination, and feel that familiar tug in my chest.
You could be on that plane. You could be drinking fresh mango juice in Zanzibar, eating street food in Bangkok, feeling like you just stepped into your own adventure movie.
For a few minutes, I let myself believe that I might actually book it. I click through, check the dates, imagine the possibilities.
But then I close the tab.
I tell myself I need to be responsible. I should have a plan. I should wait until it makes sense. But deep down, I know I’m just afraid. Not of the travel itself, but of what comes next.
What happens after I go? What happens when I have to come back and figure out my next move? What if I get out there and feel lost, not just physically, but emotionally?
And at the same time, I wonder—what if I stay here and regret never going?
The Fear of Leaving vs. The Fear of Never Leaving
Because the fear of leaving is real, but so is the fear of never leaving at all.
Sometimes I think about how easy it would be to just go. Nothing is tying me down except my own hesitation. No one would have to be consulted. No permission needed. I could literally pack a bag, book the ticket, and disappear for a while.
So why don’t I?
Maybe it’s because I’ve spent so long convincing myself that there’s one right way to do things. That I should have a perfect plan, a detailed itinerary, a clear sense of what comes next.
But the reality is, most people who take the leap don’t have everything figured out. They just go.
What If I Just… Went?
And maybe that’s what I need to do, too.
Maybe I need to stop waiting for the perfect time. Maybe I need to trust that whatever comes next, I’ll figure it out when I get there. Maybe I need to finally answer the call that’s been ringing in my inbox for years.
Because at this point, I know one thing for sure—if I don’t go now, I’ll keep waiting forever.
And I refuse to let my life be a series of almosts.
Have You Ever Felt This Way?
So tell me—have you ever almost booked a flight and stopped yourself? Or did you go for it?
Drop a comment and let me know. Maybe your story will give me the final push I need.
