When no is the gift you give to yourself

Earn better.

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This is for anyone who has ever wondered if walking away means giving up.

For over a year, I woke up early and showed up to the page. I wrestled with a memoir about my son’s medical crisis—the trauma that brought to the surface a lifetime of performing and perfectionism.

I submitted an essay to magazines, waited for responses, got an “I’m too busy to look at this” from my agent. I revised the proposal one more time, knowing in some deep place beyond my perfectionist that it still needed work.

And then I decided to stop.

This might sound like failure. It’s not.

For someone who has always struggled more with saying no than yes, who chases every shiny object that catches the light, stopping feels foreign. Uncomfortable. Disappointing.

But even though my writing project hasn’t (yet) reached success, the process of working on it, was.

I built muscles I didn’t have before: the discipline of early mornings, new ways to talk to my self-doubt, a community of creative souls who understand this particular kind of exhaustion. I processed incredibly difficult emotions and hard truths.

It turns out that I got what I needed personally from the project, if not professionally.

But here’s what I also learned: being emotionally honest every time I sat down to write was exhausting. And quite frankly, I don’t want to do that unless someone’s paying me.

That realization forced me to develop a framework for making these kinds of decisions, for knowing when to keep going and when to let go.

The Pie Chart Method

I like to think about life decisions through the lens of a pie chart. Our lives are pies divided into slices—work, creativity, rest, relationships, play. Our internal selves are pies too—the creative part, the logical part, the disciplined part, the part that just wants to lie on the couch and watch TV.

When you go overboard in one area and completely neglect another, you feel it. Misalignment. Dissatisfaction. Burnout. The challenge is that depending on the season of your life, one area might legitimately need more focus than another. The key is remembering it shouldn’t come at the complete sacrifice of everything else.

Understanding this conceptually is one thing. Actually living it requires translating awareness into action.

This is where the practical work begins: translating this awareness into your actual week, your actual day. If you’re making any behavioral change, know that it will be difficult. Clear obstacles wherever you can. Put tasks on your calendar. Do accountability sessions or body doubling with another person. Find a text partner.

Here’s the critical piece:

Do NOT make decisions based on how you’re feeling in any given moment. Emotional reactivity robs you of perspective. But reflecting on your feelings afterward? That’s essential. Your emotions are information, potentially pointing you toward that misalignment I mentioned earlier.

Which brings me to the question that has become my north star when evaluating any commitment.

The Reframe

Something I consistently ask myself is: How does this benefit me?

Usually the presenting situation itself has zero benefit. If anything, on the surface it looks like it might make my life harder. But if I can shift the lens to one of learning and growth, I can usually unlock an opportunity.

I believe that everything in life serves us so that we can serve others, whether that becomes a career or simply means bringing joy to the people around you.

With the memoir, asking this question revealed something unexpected: I had already gotten the benefit. The discipline was built. The grief was processed. The community was formed. Now, what I needed was more joy. Which is why it became clear that it was time to stop working on the memoir.

Nos Are Not Yets

I still believe that nos are not yets. If my essay gets published and an agent expresses interest, yes, I would pursue it. But for now, I’m honoring what my body is telling me: I got what I needed from this project.

The shiny object syndrome that once felt like a weakness might actually be wisdom, my system knowing when to move toward something new, when one slice of the pie needs feeding, when the season has changed.

Saying no, I’m learning, isn’t about closing doors. It’s about trusting that the energy you’re protecting will serve you better somewhere else.


And sometimes, that somewhere else has been waiting for you all along.

The Next Chapter

I’ve now pivoted to writing a novel based on my great-grandfather’s secret memoir—a story set in 1920s-1930s Shanghai that I never knew existed until recently. The memoir work taught me discipline and emotional excavation. But this novel? This fulfills my desire to explore my imagination, to play with language and character without the exhausting demand of relentless emotional honesty.

The muscles I built writing the memoir haven’t gone to waste. I’m using them differently now, in service of something that feeds a part of me that was starving, the part that wants to create worlds rather than autopsy wounds.

Maybe that’s what saying no really means: making space for the yes that’s been quietly waiting its turn.

Key Takeaways

  • Stop measuring success solely by external outcomes. The muscles you build in the process—discipline, emotional honesty, community—are valuable regardless of publication or recognition.

  • Emotional reactivity is not the same as emotional wisdom. Don’t make decisions in the heat of the moment, but do reflect on your feelings as important information about alignment.

  • Think in pie charts. Balance doesn’t mean equal slices all the time—it means no area gets completely neglected, and adjustments shift with life’s seasons.

  • Ask “How does this benefit me?” Reframe challenges through the lens of learning and growth rather than just difficulty.

  • Clear obstacles to make follow-through easier. Accountability, body doubling, calendar blocking, and text partners all reduce friction when you’re trying to change behavior.

  • “No” is not forever. Saying no to something now doesn’t mean you’re saying no forever—it means you’re honoring what your current season requires.


Reflection Questions

  1. What project or commitment have you been pouring energy into that might actually be complete, even if it doesn’t look like you imagined?
  2. Looking at your life as a pie chart right now, which slice is taking up too much space? Which slice has been completely neglected?
  3. What decision are you currently facing where emotional reactivity might be clouding your judgment? What would reflecting on those emotions—rather than deciding from them—reveal?
  4. Think of something challenging in your life right now. How might it benefit you if you shift the lens to learning and growth?
  5. What’s one obstacle you could clear this week to make following through on something important just a little bit easier?
  6. What have you been saying yes to out of obligation, fear, or habit that actually deserves a no—or at least a “not yet”?
  7. What muscles have you built in the last year that you haven’t given yourself credit for?

What are you ready to say no to? Hit reply and tell me, I read every response 🙂

Now go get paid.

x Claire


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Here’s the thing about trying to do any kind of transformational work on your own: we all have blind spots. We’re too close to ourselves to see the patterns clearly. Sometimes you need someone else to ask the question that cracks everything open.

If you’ve been reading this thinking I need to talk to someone about my own stuff—I have a few spots open this month for 30-minute coaching sessions.

This isn’t a discovery call. It’s a real session. We’ll dig into whatever’s keeping you stuck and you’ll leave with something concrete, actionable, and energizing.

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This is for anyone who’s struggling to show up fully for your family while excelling in your career.

I’m excited to share a guest post from Shivani Berry, founder of Career Mama. Career Mama helps high-performing moms at Fortune 500 companies get promoted while being present with their kids. Her take on why we struggle to be present hit a little too close to home. I think it’ll resonate with you too.

We finished dinner early. Fifteen extra minutes—a rare gift.

“Mama, play with me,” my toddler said.

I looked at her. I looked at the dishes.

“Reya, why don’t you go play, then we’ll do bedtime. I need to finish this.”

She walked away, deflated. I loaded the dishwasher. Did bedtime. And as I closed her door, guilt hit like a wave.

You chose dishes over your daughter. What is wrong with you?

The painful truth? I love checking things off. The dishes felt like a win—something I could complete. Fifteen minutes of play produced nothing tangible.

I thought my problem was time. It wasn’t.

My brain didn’t know how to stop. I’d close the laptop, but the mental tabs stayed open. I’d walk into the room with my kids while still drafting emails in my head.

It wasn’t a time problem. It was a transition problem.

And underneath that? An identity problem. Somewhere along the way, I learned that my worth was tied to output. That if I wasn’t producing, I wasn’t valuable.

No wonder I couldn’t just… be.

The Presence Failure Loop

Without a system for mental transitions, you get stuck in a brutal cycle I’ve named The Presence Failure Loop:

Juggling → You’re home, but your brain’s still at work.

Disconnection → You zone out. Snap. “Mom? MOM!!” “Sorry, what?”

Guilt → You feel like a terrible mother.

Overcompensation → “This weekend I’ll make up for it.” You plan a packed Saturday. Zoo. Crafts. The works.

Exhaustion → Sunday night, you’re more depleted than when the week started.

Monday arrives.

Repeat—only now you’re running on less.

What actually changed for me

stopped treating presence like a personality trait and started treating it like a skill.

I didn’t need to push harder. I needed to transition better—to learn how to close mental tabs and signal to my brain that work mode was ending.

Eight months later? My best career year ever. While pregnant with my second.

The first step: understand your specific pattern. We don’t all get stuck the same way.

We’ve put together a quick, free quiz to help you pinpoint what’s actually driving your stress. You’ll identify your unique overwhelm pattern and receive simple, proven strategies you can implement right away to create more ease in your day while accomplishing your goals.

You deserve to actually enjoy the moments you’ve worked so hard to build.

Hi, I’m Claire Wasserman and I help you expand your worth, wealth, and wellbeing.

I’d love to support you – learn more here.

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