How I learned (the hard way) to say "yes"​ by saying "no"​: Part I

Does this sound familiar? 

“I want to work on taking my career to the next level. But I’m buried.” 

“I want to have more time with my family.” 

“I used to go to yoga class, cook dinner, see my friends. Now all I do is work and sleep.” 

This was me. In fact, I was moving so much, so fast that I’m not sure I could have articulated what I wanted (aside from a nap). 

Two years ago, there came a point where enough was enough. But it took some wake-up calls, even doctor visits, to finally say hell no. 

What happens when you resent your schedule 

Before learning how to protect my time, I felt chaotic, hectic, even resentful.  

To be clear, I was resentful of the schedule, not of my position as a leader or life as an entrepreneur. I wanted to be spending my time with my team, building relationships with clients, sprinkling in strategic conversations with the business community and getting to do speaking engagements or volunteer activities when I wanted.

I realized I was taking meetings with anyone who was asking for them, and it was interrupting my ability to be with my team and clients, my primary priority. And, most importantly, it was distracting me from—and bleeding into—time with my family. 

I resented being “on” for 12 hours straight, often in meetings that weren't putting me at my highest or best use. 

I resented that my administrative assistant had to specially format my calendar so the alert would trigger a reminder of why I was even meeting with that person, how they got connected with me, and what the topic was (brain picking, help learning about the marketing industry, job connections, etc.).

When our son was a toddler, I resented consistently leaving the house before he was awake. I’d be on the highway before our nanny arrived just to meet someone for coffee at 7:15 a.m. because I had said yes to the networking request even though I had no space for it. I made the space by taking up my personal white space. Saying good-bye had been so emotional and stressful for both of us that I sometimes hoped he wouldn’t wake up before I left. 

Once back home, my phone stopped pinging me just long enough to unbury myself from email. But it turned out this routine unintentionally created a flurry in others’ homes when my team thought I expected a response at 11 p.m. or 5:30 a.m.  

I was completely drained because I had given the best of myself to everything and everyone besides my family. Every extra minute was filled with networking and favors and coffees. 

And for a long time, I thought that was the sacrifice I had to make.  

The breaking point 

Then, I realized that was all a lie. 

What example was I setting for my team if I felt like I had to sneak out of the house before the sun rose every morning?  

I wasn’t exercising. I wasn’t eating well. Forget meditating, I wasn’t even breathing, hardly sleeping.

Something had to give. So, true to form, I picked up a book. 

In Tribe of Mentors, Timothy Ferris (author of The Four-Hour Work Week) interviewed successful leaders to create a book with the subtitle "short life advice from the best in the world."  

One of the most important pieces of advice that showed up time and again was the power of "no." 

Everyone wants your time, but only you can protect it. And doing so means saying no—a word I had left behind the day I started my business. treetree was built on "yes! yes! and more yes!" "yes, and" and "yes, please!"

Why is saying no so darn hard? 

It’s filled with guilt.  

It’s uncomfortable.  

Being ‘helpful’ is often part of our identity.  

And it’s unexpected; everyone says "yes" to everything. 

But here’s the thing. If you want to say yes, then you have to start with no. 

How?  

In part two of this post, I’ll share how two years of this mindset have changed my life and the exact words I use to say "no" to the request without saying "no" to the person.