The Year of NO: How a Tiny Word Became My Biggest Act of Rebellion

There’s a point in your life where “yes” stops being generous and starts being self-harm with better manners.

I’ve lived most of my life as a walking, talking, smiling permission slip.
“Yes” was my default setting — especially as a late-diagnosed neurodivergent woman who spent decades masking, fixing, smoothing, helping, adapting, and shape-shifting just to stay acceptable.

“Yes” got me through tough times.
“Yes” built entire careers.
“Yes” made me reliable, likeable, helpful – and absolutely knackered.

But here’s what I finally understood at 60:
Every yes is a no to something else.
Usually: me.

It’s a creepy little equation nobody warns creative women about.

Say yes to someone’s emergency — say no to your studio time.
Say yes to a favour — say no to your own energy.
Say yes to a gig you don’t love — say no to the work that makes your soul dance.
Say yes to PR in a publication that makes your insides cringe — say no to your values.

And then you wake up one day feeling buried under other people’s expectations, wondering where the hell YOU went.

So I’m making 2026 my Year of NO.

Not a polite no.
Not a “sorry, I wish I could.”
Not a vague, people-pleasing no that sounds like a yes in disguise.

A sharp, clean, empowered NO.

The kind of NO that creates space.
Space for the big, messy, glittery YES.

Here’s what I’m saying NO to:

• work that doesn’t excite me

• projects that don’t stretch me

• PR that clashes with my values

• performing versions of myself to keep people comfortable

• shrinking to be relatable

• taking on roles that aren’t mine

• apologising for my ambition

• opportunities that are “good for exposure”

• doom scrolling and losing my life to billionaire’s algorithms

And here’s what I’m saying YES to — by default:

• bold art that scares me in a good way

• Drag on canvas (the icons, the legends, the divine Divine)

• neurodivergent rebellion as a creative force

• telling the truth loudly

• PR that aligns with my people

• opportunities that make me tingle like I’ve licked a battery

• visibility without self-abandonment

• the power of being too much on purpose

This isn’t a New Year’s resolution.
It’s a homecoming.
A reclamation.
A declaration that I’m done auditioning for my own life.

I’ve been the good girl.
Now I’m the artist with a crown and a middle finger in the logo, and I have work to do.

If it isn’t a HELL YES, it’s a beautiful, unapologetic NO.

Your turn.
What are you saying no to this year?