Let’s get real.
This week?
Tested. On all fronts.
Professionally, personally—and energetically.
And what hit hardest wasn’t the volume of asks, but the emotional load of choosing to say no. Especially when saying yes would’ve kept the peace. Kept me liked. Kept me "good."
But here’s the truth no one wants to admit:
No matter how much good you do, how fair you are, how deeply you care—you will be the villain in someone else’s story.
And that has to be okay.
The Reality of Boundaries
As a recovering people-pleaser, I’ve spent years trying to thread the needle between kindness and self-preservation. But this week reminded me that the cost of doing the “right thing” repeatedly is often your peace.
I had to draw the line.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve been asked to run sessions, speak, facilitate—for free. Not charity work. Not grassroots causes. Just “exposure” or “good networking.”
Yes, the audience might be my target market. Yes, the topic may be aligned.
But I can’t do it all. And I shouldn’t have to.
So I took the calls. I was polite. But I said no.
And guess what? I haven’t been that popular since.
And that stung.
Because contrary to the narrative, no one actually enjoys being disliked. But I’ve been in rooms I didn’t want to be in, delivering brilliance through gritted teeth, resenting my own yes.
So now? I honour the version of me who doesn’t want to perform through obligation.
What We’re Not Going to Do:
We’re not going to guilt ourselves into over-functioning.
We’re not going to chase validation through unpaid labour.
And we’re definitely not going to feel bad for protecting our energy.
Instead, we pause and ask:
“The story I’m telling myself is…”
Because our lens is always tinted by our past experiences.
One situation this week really triggered me—so much so that I physically felt the memory of a previous boundary being crossed. And I responded, sharper than usual.
To that person—I see it. I own it. That wasn’t my best self.
But it was my most honest in the moment.
And if you’re brave enough to lead, you have to be brave enough to repair too.
Unfortunately, in this emotionally charged exchange, words were said to me that crossed a few boundaries, so the verdict is out as to whether this situation can be rectified.
Which leads me to something that I live by…
🪢 Never Cut What Can Be Untied
In The Woman Code, Sophia Nelson offers this as a reminder that not all endings need to be severed with scissors. Not all conflicts require a final act of silence, erasure or destruction. Some knots are simply tangled, not broken. And with enough patience, presence, and perspective—they can be gently loosened, understood, and transformed.
Here's what this code demands from us:
Pause before walking away. Sometimes we are so quick to "cut off" people, roles or opportunities without asking ourselves—Is this a knot that needs cutting, or one that needs untying?
Practice relational courage. It takes far more strength to sit in a conversation that makes you uncomfortable than to ghost it. Closure is not weak. Closure is wisdom.
Understand your own patterns. Cutting is sometimes easier than addressing our emotional triggers. But what if the person or situation is offering you a mirror to untie something within yourself?
In leadership and mentoring:
This code hits different. Especially in boardrooms, coaching conversations, and high-stakes negotiations. Ending partnerships, letting go of team members, or evolving relationships doesn’t have to be brutal to be effective.
Think:
A mentee who challenges your leadership style.
A team member who’s lost their way, but not their potential.
A client relationship that’s strained but salvageable.
In each of these, "untying" might mean giving honest feedback. Naming the tension. Extending a second conversation, not a final judgement. Practising high-integrity communication.
Real Talk:
Yes, some knots do need cutting. But if your go-to is to burn bridges when you could simply build boundaries, this is your sign to soften. To take the grown-woman route. To lead from power—not punishment.
“Never cut what can be untied” is not about being passive. It’s about being discerning. It’s emotional maturity dressed up in wisdom.”
🔗 Resources to Keep You Aligned
📖 The Woman Code by Sophia A. Nelson
Especially Code 12 – A masterclass in grace-based boundary setting🎙️ Brené Brown: Living BIG (Boundaries, Integrity, Generosity)
✍🏾 Tool: Write a "Not Right Now" Response Template
Something you can use (and reuse) for offers that aren’t aligned. An example below…
❤️ What I’m Holding Firm To Right Now:
Two rules that keep me anchored in love:
I only want people to do things for me from love, or not at all.
I give the same in return.My love for someone isn’t conditional on them saying yes.
Disappointment doesn’t have to lead to disconnection.
🛠️ Journal Prompts for the Week:
Where have I been saying yes when I meant no?
Have I become resentful in situations where I overrode my own needs?
Did I recently cut something that could’ve been untied?
Am I prepared to be misunderstood in order to stay true to myself?
Who do I need to circle back to—not to apologise for my no, but to soften the edges of how it was received?
With Peace, Love and Flow
Final Thought:
So yes. I may be a villain in someone’s story this week.
But I’m not a villain in mine.
Because I chose joy.
I chose boundaries.
I chose me.
And if that’s selfish? Then so be it.
Because the world, your workplace, your family—they will always take more if you don’t draw the line.
We can be kind. And firm.
We can be generous. And discerning.
We can be loving. And say no.
Let your no be a full sentence.
Let your yes come from overflow.
Let your integrity speak, even when your popularity drops.
You don’t have to explain your boundaries to be valid.
But if you do? Let it be from power—not apology.
In the news this week
I attended the annual FT Women in Business Live and we were really spoilt with some amazing speakers.
This week we commemorated 77 years since the Windrush and I was honoured to attend an event at Bloomberg where we heard stories and sat in community.
What a beautiful evening, reminding us that we are all custodians of the story and we should capture them when we can.
