I said this to my boyfriend, and we both burst out laughing. It was just so refreshingly honest, while also being playful and kind.
The Power of an Honest "No"
Most of us have been trained to believe that "I don't want to" isn't a good enough reason to say no. We've learned to soften our boundaries with elaborate explanations, apologies, or straight-up lies. We say "I can't" when we mean "I don't want to," or "Maybe later" when we mean "never." We've been taught that we need a "legitimate" excuse—work, family stuff, prior commitments—to justify our boundaries.
But here’s what I’ve discovered over the years: "I don't want to" isn't just a valid reason to say no, it's often the most honest and respectful one. All those elaborate justifications we create? They often push people away more than the simple truth ever could.
When I told my boyfriend "I'd totally do that, but I don't want to," I wasn't being mean. I was being real. I was saying yes, I'm totally capable of doing what you suggested, and yes, I could choose to do it if I wanted to put your preference over mine. But I don't want to, and that's a perfectly good reason not to do something.
The Connection in Truth-Telling
What surprised me was how being that honest actually brought us closer. Instead of starting a fight, it just made everything clearer. Instead of resentment building up from a reluctant "yes," we had this moment of genuine connection around my real response.
He laughed because he appreciated the directness. I laughed because I felt free to be myself without any performance or pretense. We both won because we got to just exist in our relationship without the exhausting dance of people-pleasing and mind-reading.
The Conditioning Around Our "No"
A lot of us learned early on that our authentic responses weren't okay. We were taught that "I don't want to" wasn't good enough, that we needed to justify our desires and boundaries with logical explanations or unavoidable circumstances. We learned to say "I can't come to your party because I have to work" instead of "I’m not coming to your party because I need some alone time."
This stuff goes way back, especially if you grew up thinking other people's comfort mattered more than your own preferences. We learned that being honest was selfish, and that love meant saying yes even when everything in us wanted to say no.
But when we keep overriding our "don't want to" with made-up excuses, we send the message that our real reasons aren't valid. Over time, we start believing it ourselves.
When Dishonesty Breaks Trust
But there's something else that happens when we're not honest about our experience: we break trust with the people we care about. Not in an obvious, dramatic way, but in these subtle moments where something just feels... off.
Considering it in your own life: when someone gives you a reason that doesn't quite ring true, you can usually feel it. Maybe their energy doesn't match their words, or their explanation feels overly complicated, or there's just something in their tone that makes you think, "Hmm, that doesn't feel quite right."
We're wired to pick up on these inconsistencies, even when we can't put our finger on exactly what's wrong. And when we sense that someone isn't being fully honest with us—even about something small—it creates distance. We start to wonder what else they're not telling us. We begin to question whether we can trust what they say.
The Subtle Erosion
This erosion of trust doesn't happen all at once. It's more like water wearing away at stone—barely noticeable at first, but cumulative over time. Each time we give a fake excuse instead of our real reason, we chip away at the foundation of trust in our relationships.
The person on the receiving end might not consciously think, "They're lying to me." But they might start to feel like they don't really know us. They might sense that we're performing rather than just being. And that feeling of not quite connecting with the real us? That's what slowly pulls relationships apart.
The Ripple Effects of Honesty
When we start being honest about our "don't want to's," something beautiful happens. People begin to trust that when we say yes, we actually mean it. Our relationships become less about managing each other's reactions and more about genuine connection.
My boyfriend and I use this phrase regularly now—"I'd totally do that, but I don't want to"—and it's become shorthand for "I love you enough to be honest with you." It's changed how we navigate everything from dinner plans to bigger life decisions.
The most loving thing we can do is show up as ourselves—boundaries, preferences, and all. Because when we honor our own truth while staying connected, we create space for others to do the same.
