I’m Not Interested
And That’s a Full Sentence
In a world that rewards people-pleasing, “I’m not interested” is more than a refusal—it’s a return. To self, to peace, to what actually matters.
There was a time when I said “sure” like it was my middle name.
“Can you help me move this weekend?” Sure.
“Want to jump on a quick call?” Sure.
“Can I borrow some money?” Sigh. Sure.
But deep down, I wasn’t saying yes. I was saying “I don’t want to, but it doesn’t hurt me too much.” And that right there? That’s how joy quietly leaks out of your life. Not with big heartbreaks or betrayals, but through the slow, quiet erosion of a thousand misplaced yeses.
I read a dozen Joel Osteen books and even flew to Texas to attend his church. What stuck with me wasn’t just his smile—it was one simple spiritual principle that Sunday: If you want to live with intention, you have to learn to say “I’m not interested.”
It sounds harsh. But it’s the opposite. It’s clarity. It’s peace. It’s the no that makes room for the yes that matters.
From Smile to Spine
Maturity is not smiling at everyone. This I know: it’s having a spine beneath the smile.
That’s why, years ago, I started practicing “I’m not interested” like it was a daily meditation. I stopped over-explaining. I stopped sugar-coating. I stopped fearing that a “no” would make me less kind or less likable.
Examples?
Not interested—when someone wants to hop on a call with no agenda.
Not interested—in doing more than I’m paid or respected for.
Not interested—in food that doesn’t love me back.
Not interested—in opportunities that require me to bend my values or pace.
Not interested—even in romance, when something feels slightly off.
It’s not cold. It’s not guarded. It’s just honest.
The Myth of the Good Person
We’ve been told that good people say yes. That kindness is agreement. That love is endless giving. But in reality, constantly saying yes doesn’t make you a better person. It just makes you a burnt-out one.
You can be warm and say no.
You can be generous and set boundaries.
You can smile and protect your peace.
Most of what tries to pull our attention isn’t urgent or sacred—it’s distraction masking as social obligation.
And if you’re always available to everything, you’ll never be present for the one thing that actually matters to you.
The Freedom on the Other Side
There’s a strange kind of joy in reclaiming your energy. You start to notice you’re sleeping better. Laughing more. Doing things not because you should, but because you want to. Your yes becomes sacred. Your presence, intentional.
In a culture addicted to applause, I’ve grown to love the silence that comes with alignment.
So now, when someone asks for my time, attention, energy, or soul—and it doesn’t feel right?
I smile, breathe, and say:
“I’m not interested.”
Because sometimes, no is the truest yes.