No is a Full Sentence (and Other Boundary Truths We Keep Forgetting)

Why is 'No' the hardest word in the English language to say out loud?

(Well, apart from 'moist' maybe.)

We twist ourselves into pretzels, hand out long-winded excuses, or say 'Yes, of course' when we desperately want to give a hard pass.

Because apparently, 'No' is rude. It’s selfish. It’s dramatic. Yes, we've been conditioned to believe that the world might crumble if we don’t nod politely and sacrifice our sanity for someone else’s convenience.

Spoiler: it won’t. In fact, the only thing that crumbles is you, slowly, while smiling through gritted teeth and secretly Googling 'Remote island living - how to graze off the land and not Amazon Prime'.

And yet, we still say yes.

Yes to the neighbour’s candle party. Yes to the work WhatsApp group we never wanted. Yes to your kid's theatre fund raising cake sale saga, even though the baking tins are currently a quarter inch deep in Yorkie pudding batter. All because we’re scared that saying no makes us 'the bad one!'

And if that's you, stop.

Boundaries aren’t mean. They’re survival. They’re the invisible guard rails that stop us from hurtling off the cliff edge into 'Why do I hate everyone and everything?' territory.

Yes, one of the only things I actually enjoyed about lockdown (and I use 'enjoyed' loosely, because the whole thing was a dumpster fire of banana bread and hand sanitizer) was the two-metre rule. Those big yellow stickers on the floor were actually pockets of joy for my little anxious brain. They weren’t just lockdown rules - they were permission slips, at every single shop. and they said:

'Yes, Rebel, it’s fine to want space. Yes, it’s fine to not want strangers breathing onion crisps down your neck in Tesco.' I miss them. Because blink, and the stickers vanished. And suddenly we were back to being shoulder-to-shoulder with nosey Norah at the post office, asking why my kiddos weren't in school. And then looking horrified when I said, "They are - we home ed and this is a field trip to find the annoying old bats. Can I take your photo for evidence?"

But boundaries aren’t just about space in a physical sense. They’re about respect. And here’s where it gets tricky: where do boundaries end and disrespect begin?

Much like many 70s and 80s households, 'respect' was demanded when I grew up. Non-negotiable. And punishable if not received. I lived my childhood with the notion that authority was right, even when it was wrong, and you didn’t get a say in the matter.

Now, with my own kids, I want respect, of course I do. But I also make damn sure to give it back.

If they’ve got a genuine reason for not meeting an expectation, I’ll listen. Because respect isn’t about power plays. It’s about recognising each other as human beings, with limits, moods (which we have plenty of in this house!), and needs. Sometimes that means listening when they say “I need space,” or respecting their boundaries when they don’t feel like hugs.

That’s not disobedience - that’s self-respect in training. That's understanding that no is a full sentence. And in my opinion, far more important than algebra or King Henry VIII.

For anyone who’s read my book (or even a handful of my blog posts), you’ll know my relationship with my own mother is… well, was, 'complicated'. An on off drama of different people, different lives. And few years ago, I outlined my boundaries with her... via Gmail! Now, some would say that's a cop out and she deserved more, but I hate confrontation. And face-to-face, or even on the phone, she would have found a hundred ways to twist it and make me feel guilty for daring to draw that line.

It was hard, don't get me wrong. So hard.

But once I hit send, once the dust settled, I felt lighter.

Stronger.

More positive.

Because that’s what boundaries do - they don’t just protect you. They clear space for you to breathe, grow, and finally stop dancing to someone else’s exhausting tune.

And the biggest, boldest boundary of them all?

The word No.

Not up for debate. Not waiting for approval.

Yes. No is a full sentence. So here’s your reminder: you don’t need to justify your boundaries. You don’t need to write a three-page essay, invent an excuse, or hand out coupons for free hugs in exchange.

A simple, polite 'No' is enough.

And if someone doesn’t like it? That’s their boundary issue, not yours. P.S. If this resonated, my book has plenty more raw truths about boundaries, respect, and the messy joy of surviving modern life. Grab a copy on Amazon, or if you'd prefer a signed edition, just drop me a message.

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 "Boundary setting helps you prioritize your needs over other people's wants."

Lauren Kenson