[For those who worry too much] That 'late-night self-reflection' after saying no—the other person has already forgotten.

"I'm sorry, but today is a bit..."

That was the night I finally managed to say just those few words.

Even after getting into bed, the replay wouldn't stop in my head. Did that way of saying it sound cold? Did I offend them? Will things be awkward tomorrow?

I had only said no once, yet I spent the whole night rewinding that scene in my mind. I think people who struggle to set boundaries have probably experienced this "long night after saying no" many times.

Why do we ruminate all night long after saying no?

For a long time, I dismissed this as just being a person who worries too much. But when I observed it closely, I realized there was a more specific assumption hidden deep down.

It is the assumption that the other person is watching my every move and grading me.

That's why I'm afraid to say no. I feel like the other person will remember my facial expression and tone of voice at the moment I refused, and write down in their mental notebook, "That's the kind of person they are."

Not being able to turn down requests, or not being able to say "I'm leaving early" at a drinking party—the root cause was the same. I was living under the premise that the other person was constantly watching me.

But the other person has already forgotten

To reveal the secret, it was so simple it was anticlimactic.

The day after I had worried so much, the other person was completely fine. They didn't even remember what I had been carrying around all night. Far from being offended, the very fact that I had said no had already vanished from their memory.

When you think about it, it's obvious. Everyone is overwhelmed with their own work and worries, and they don't have the capacity to remember how people turn them down. Nobody was watching me as much as I thought they were.

This isn't meant to be dismissive; rather, it was a relief. If I'm not being watched, then no major incident will occur if I say no. The time I spent reflecting all night was entirely a product of my own imagination.

Setting boundaries isn't about rejecting the other person

When I hear "setting boundaries," I used to have an image of shutting people out or drawing a cold line. That's why it was even scarier.

But now, it feels a bit different. A boundary isn't a wall built toward the other person, but rather giving yourself permission to say, "You're not being watched that closely, it's okay."

I'm not rejecting the other person. I'm just quietly letting go of the non-existent premise that I am being graded from every direction.

So now, when the mental rewind starts to play after I've said no, I try to tell myself: "It's okay, they've already forgotten." Just that alone has made my nights much quieter.

The only assumption we need to discard is, "Everyone is watching me." Once you can let that go, saying no becomes less scary than you thought.

Have you ever had a night where you held a solo reflection meeting all by yourself after saying no to someone? If you'd like, please tell me about it.

The 'rewinding' of the night I said no wouldn't stop—I spent a long time having nights like that, too. I have compiled the journey of letting go of the assumption that 'everyone is watching me' into this book. It is written for those who try too hard to meet expectations and end up inspecting themselves at night. This is a book for people like that.

I would be happy if this could be a time where, after finishing it, you feel a little less tense and find it easier to breathe. Please take a look if you'd like.