No.
It’s my second-favorite word after “fuck”.
Which is absolutely hilarious because there was a time in my not-so-distant past in which the word ‘no’ felt hard. I had a difficult time saying no because I was afraid of offending people, hurting their feelings, and being perceived as the ‘bad guy’.
It took me a minute to realize that finding the right people to surround myself with meant I could actually say no without doing any of those things. No is only difficult to say when you fail to realize that saying it to people who take it personally because your feelings aren’t as important as theirs – which, by the way, is a lesson in and of itself – but saying no really only offends people who don’t respect your feelings, your time, and your life.
When you say no to people who genuinely love, respect, and understand that your ‘no’ is about you, not them, you find that saying no becomes a lot easier. Life becomes a lot more enjoyable, and you finally find some balance, rest, and relaxation in life.
And it also makes saying yes to things a lot more fun.
I’ve been saying ‘no’ for several years now. It’s such a difficult thing at first, but it’s amazing how one little word can make life infinitely better. Higher-quality, if you will. And I’m carrying it with me into 2026 as well…though sometimes I have to remind myself that I need to say yes to things because it would be ridiculously easy for me to turn myself into a hermit who never, ever leaves my home and have no problem with that at all.
As I go into a new year – no new me, though – I’m saying no to things that just don’t fit the aesthetic of being a 42-year-old mom of four in this particular season of life.
I’m saying no to being nice
I’m still kind. I’m still generous.
But I’m saying no to going out of my way to be nice.
I think I’ve spent much of my life mistaking being nice for being respectful, but I definitely learned in 2025 that I can be respectful without being nice. I don’t need to apologize for sharing my feelings or opinion with you. I only need to respectfully convey my feelings. There’s no need to be nice.
For example, when a teacher denies my daughter her 504 accommodations for extra time on tests on repeat, when he refuses to help her when she has questions, and when he makes her feel as if she’s a nuisance who frustrates him by asking for help, and I schedule a meeting with him to discuss, I only needed to be respectful.
When he told me that my daughter, who has been a straight A honors student for the past three years, “probably shouldn’t have had A’s on her report cards because what I’ve seen from her knowledge in person is not indicative of those grades,” and proceeded to call her and all of his honors students ‘lazy’ and said they have ‘no basic knowledge of algebra, which they should have been learning since elementary school,’ and followed that up with, “it’s not my job to teach them what they should know,” (which is…literally your job as a teacher?)…I was nice.
When he then used my daughter as an example to her peers following our second meeting, and said, “You kids don’t go home crying to your mommy and daddy about your teachers because you’re the problem,” I decided nice is no longer in my repertoire (let me take a small moment here to make clear several things:
- I have nothing but respect for educators – they are amazing
- Four kids and thirteen years of school in this county so far has given us the chance as parents to get to know over 100 teachers between our four kids so far, and while we may not particularly like them all or even agree with all of them, we have NEVER asked for any of our kids to be removed from a teacher’s classroom and we have NEVER filed a complaint about a teacher in our lives)
- Our kids haven’t even always liked every single teacher they’ve had, but none of them has ever asked to be removed from a class or come home crying regularly or complained that a teacher doesn’t listen to them, makes them feel stupid, and has absolutely no desire to help (it became so bad our daughter hired her own tutor to help her with this class because her teacher makes her feel so stupid and uncomfortable)
- I’m only discussing this publicly at the moment because I’ve already discussed OPENLY with the principal, the counselors, and the teacher – as well as been approached by several other parents and their kids expressing the same frustrations about the same person – and while I’ve successfully worked with her counselor (she is an absolute GEM) who worked with one of the APs (who is newer and not someone I know well, but she also seems like a complete gem) to create a non-credit hour study hall for our daughter so that she can take the second semester of this class online – I make no secret about the fact that I find the direct leadership of said school affable but incompetent and have for the four years we’ve had children at that school, which I’ve also told him on more than on occasion. Communication is key, friend. Just communicate with me, and perhaps I’d find you a bit more competent. Gosh, I hope he reads the blog. I actually like him as a person; I simply find him ineffective as a leader.
I’ll continue to be respectful. I will not be nice. My niceness is earned.
Okay, so that got out of hand, but like I said – I no longer feel any desire to be nice when you aren’t earning it.
If my tone feels direct, it is.
If my honesty makes you uneasy, that’s on you.
If you don’t like me, I just don’t care.
I’m saying no to hustle designed as worth.
I’m not hustling.
I’m living.
There will be no 5 am wake-ups to head to the gym or hop on my laptop to get some work done. Darling, I’ll see you at 7.
I’ve already hustled. I’ve already grinded. I’ve already done those things in my life, and this is the part where I enjoy myself. I’ll wake up at 7 to say goodbye to the kids as my husband ushers them into the car to go to school. I’ll sit down and drink my coffee in the quiet. I’ll walk the dog. Write what I want to write when I want to write it. Do some laundry. Keep my house sparkling clean (because I’m an obsessive compulsive psycho and I cannot function with anything less than perfect cleanliness in my home and cars). I’ll go to the gym in the afternoon. I’ll wander into my husband’s office and interrupt him as he works to share unimportant thoughts throughout the day. Read by the pool. Try a new recipe. Go shopping. Lunch with my friends.
And I’ll be in the pick-up line to get my kids when the day is over.
My worth is found in being happy, and being happy is not found in the hustle.
I’m saying no to explaining myself.
Because it’s no one’s business.
If something works for me – or doesn’t – that’s the explanation. If that doesn’t resonate with you, congratulations. You’re allowed to live differently.
I’m saying no to effort.
Oh, doll, I’m making an effort where it’s important in my life.
But I’m not making an effort where it’s unwarranted.
Effort is currency. I’m not making all the effort to keep your peace.
Hosting all the holidays. Extending all the invitations. Bringing everyone together – that’s…not my job. It’s not my job to make all the effort while others make none.
I’m saying no to martyr motherhood.
I love my kids.
Deeply.
Obsessively.
More than anything.
But I’m not going to romanticize burnout or resentment. I’m not going to act like I’m losing myself in the price of admission.
I’m not overextending myself and ruining anyone’s life by being a raging bitch with a martyr attitude.
I rely on my husband to ease my burdens.
I rely on friends to help when we are overwhelmed – because sometimes we are overwhelmed and it’s a normal part of life with kids, and knowing I can call my besties and ask them to feed a kid or two dinner while we are splitting up to go to two sporting events for two kids on the same night in different places makes it a lot easier to avoid falling into the trap of martyrdom.
My kids need that.
They need to see us modeling a life of fulfillment that also encompasses boundaries and joy.
I’m saying no to people I ‘should’ like.
I have opinions.
I have taste.
I have confidence.
I have boundaries.
If that reads as intimidating, go ahead and rephrase that into ‘you are intimidated,’ rather than I am intimidating.
I’m not sanding myself down to fit into rooms I don’t even want to be in.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I don’t go into rooms I don’t want to be in.
I’m saying no to later.
Later is a myth. Later might not even exist. I’m saying no to later and yes to right now.
Yes to joy right now.
Yes to making memories now.
Yes to presence.
Yes to whatever seems happy and good in the moment. Right now.
The truth…
Refining the word no and learning to use it without a twinge of guilt over the past few years has made my life softer, richer, calmer, and somehow more expansive.
I don’t do more.
I choose better.
Saying no has allowed me to remove people from my life I didn’t realize I’d outgrown until I was exhausted. It’s allowed me to introduce people into my life that I never would have imagined. It’s allowed me to slow down and actually enjoy life even when life feels busier and more rapid-fire than ever before.
Saying no has allowed me to grow, mature, and learn to be absolutely unapologetic in life because I’m living it for me.
It’s really fucking nice.
You should try.
Tiffany Raiford 