I’m sorry. I can’t.

I am 47 years old.

And I am only now realizing that “I’m sorry. I can’t” is a full response.

Legitimate. Adequate. Complete.

Effective.

And surprisingly simple.

Yes. Granted, the first, second, and likely third time you release those words into the abyss, it will feel very odd. I’m not going to lie. It does. You may feel the comma nudging you. Pushing up against it. Let the period claim its place. All period. No comma. And then fight the pressing urge to add more. Do not build upon. Do not add to it. Info. Reasons. Excuses. Just let it rest. And settle.

Friends. We do not need to insert anything else. It’s a full sentence. And the period is fine right where it is.

Honestly, just writing that last part forced my spine to straighten and gave me tingles in my fingertips. Yes, I’m a work in progress. Always a WIP.

But I try. And I’ve come so far.

Pre-circa 2020, if I was the recipient of an invitation or request for something I couldn’t do, or simply didn’t want to do, I could never just say “Sorry, I can’t” and move on. I would instinctually share an exhaustive list of reasons why I couldn’t. I’m pretty sure I’ve gone as far as sharing a detailed itinerary to legitimize my response. To not disappoint the inviter. An innate desire to please the people. All the people. All the time.

A shift happened in my 46th year, and I’ve embraced this new approach wholeheartedly since then.

Nearing the end of my 46th year and my arrival of 47 looming in the distance, I was asked to do something. A favor. This was something I really didn’t want to do. For a whole variety of reasons. Some legitimate. Some selfish. I struggled with how I was going to say I couldn’t do what I was being invited to do. I’m leaving out the What (although I do realize the What is often the most intriguing). The fact is the What of this story doesn’t matter. It’s all relative. The What will always vary. Ebbs and flows.

I shared my internal struggle with one of my soul-sister friends. I shared that I didn’t want to do it, but felt bad about it. I said I should explain to the person why I can’t. And she replied, “No you don’t. You can simply say you can’t. That’s it. You do not need to explain why. You can add sorry if that helps you. But you don’t need to provide any explanation.”

Mind blown.

This is not to say someone hasn’t told me that before. I know I have heard it before. But honestly, I never heard it until that moment. Until my friend said those words to me. At that precise moment.

I thought of all the times before when my innate nature was to respond with a diatribe of reasons why I couldn’t.

To release me. To absolve me.

Of a burden. A burden I didn’t want. But am solely responsible for. I am both the source and the outcome. Me. On me, By me. All me.

I can’t.

So simple. Effective. Real.

I’ve tried using just the two-word combo, I can’t. But honestly, it doesn’t sit right. It scratches at my skin. So, I insert an ‘I’m sorry‘ and it soothes the itch. Softens the touch.

I’m sorry, I can’t.

And then I take a breath. Pause. And release.

Period. Not a comma. Period.

It’s a struggle. The comma is fierce. But I do not relent. I am steadfast.

And then I am free.

And now, when I say Yes, it’s because my whole being is saying Yes. I give all of me.

And friends, let me tell ya. It sure feels better.

With gratitude,