The Myth of Yes

I can still see her face.

My granddaughter was on stage at a school program, wearing a paper crown decorated with music notes. Her class had been practicing three songs for weeks, and she was buzzing with excitement. She asked me the same question every time we talked about it: “You’ll be there, right?”

I promised her I would.

But then a meeting that felt non-negotiable showed up on my calendar. I looked at the conflict, felt my chest tighten, and told myself she would understand. She is young. She will forget. I will make it up to her later.

The meeting won.

I texted another parent to record the performance. That night, when I saw her, she asked, “Did you see me wave from the stage?”

The ache hit me harder than any stress I had carried from work. It was not the ache of exhaustion or even guilt. It was the ache of misalignment, of knowing I had chosen urgency over presence.

On paper, I looked like a leader who could handle anything. Calm under pressure. Always reliable. A “yes” leader. But none of those accolades mattered in that moment. Because leadership without presence does not feel like leadership at all. It feels like absence.

That night, I realized something I will never forget: every yes has a cost. And if I kept ignoring the true cost, I would be paying with the one thing I could never buy back. Moments with the people I love most.

Performance culture sells us a lie. It tells us that yes equals value.

Yes means you are a team player.
Yes means you are committed.
Yes means you are capable and ambitious.

But that is not the whole story.

Yes also means exhaustion.
Yes means missed milestones at home.
Yes means fractured presence.

I call this the Myth of Yes. It is the belief that saying yes is always good leadership. In reality, a reflexive yes often proves erosion, not value.

The people who benefit from your yes are rarely the ones paying the price. You are. Your body pays. Your family pays. Your clarity pays.

That night at my granddaughter’s school reminded me of a truth that leaders often ignore. Saying yes to one thing always means saying no to something else. And too often, I had been saying no to what mattered most.

We do not talk enough about boundaries as leadership skills. But they are.

Boundaries are not selfish. They are signals of integrity.

When a leader protects their energy, their team learns that sustainability matters more than speed.
When a manager chooses presence at a family milestone, their people see that leadership is human.
When an executive says no to over-functioning, they model trust instead of martyrdom.

Boundaries do not make you smaller. They make your leadership steadier.

Because people can feel when your yes is clean and when it is costing you too much.

Here are four practices from Lead Like You Mean It that help me protect my yes.

1. The Presence Reset
Before you agree, pause for one breath. Ask: Am I saying yes from clarity, or from fear of being misperceived?

2. The Purpose Filter
At the end of the day, ask: Did I choose urgency, or what truly matters?

3. The Alignment Check
Each week, write down one decision you made from wholeness. Claim it. Build the muscle of integrity.

4. The Micro-Return
When you catch yourself performing, pause. Place a hand on your chest and whisper: Come back.

Reflection Questions

• Where did I say yes this week that fractured me?

• What am I pretending not to know about my yeses?

• What would it look like to trust my no?

Journaling Prompts

• The Yes I Regret: Write a goodbye letter to one yes that cost you too much. Thank it, then release it.

• My Power, Remembered: Write from the voice of the leader who no longer performs for approval. How does she say no? How does she choose yes?

Compass Points (anchors for this week)

• My no protects my yes.

• Presence before performance.

• Alignment outlasts applause.

Subscribers, thank you for being here.

This space is where I share the rawest truths. Not just polished insights, but the moments that changed me. The ache beneath the applause. The cost of yes. The story of a little girl on stage, looking for me in the crowd.

That night taught me something I will spend the rest of my life practicing. Leadership is not just about what happens in the boardroom. It is about the choices that ripple into our families, our communities, and the people who take their cues from us.

So this week, before you say yes, I invite you to pause. Breathe. Ask: Who is paying for this one?

Because your presence matters. Your wholeness matters. And the people who wave from the stage of your life deserve more than the fragments left after everyone else’s yes.

Be present. Lead like you mean it.