I’ve always been an overachiever.
When I started university, that trait was ramped up by 1000%, and I felt like the world was mine for the taking. In my mind, in order to have a meaningful university experience, I had to be involved in as many things as I could.
From serving as an executive for student groups, volunteering for Toronto Metropolitan University’s orientation crew, rushing for a sorority, and now writing for Her Campus at Toronto MU, my second year was already off to a hectic start. Factoring in my career as a freelance bridal makeup artist and my sporadic attempts at maintaining a social life, burnout has become my (unwelcomed) new best friend.
Looking back, I can see how saying yes to so many things opened incredible doors for me. It introduced me to experiences I would’ve never sought out on my own and allowed me to nurture my skills and talents.
As the administrative associate for the Caribbean Students’ Association and the co-lead of its fundraising committee, for example, I was able to develop my organizational and money management skills, and leadership abilities. Each new activity pushed me out of my comfort zone, whether it was public speaking, leading a team, or simply putting myself out there. With every challenge, my confidence grew, and I began to trust my ability to adapt to new situations.
Beyond that, saying yes allowed me to connect with mentors, peers, and faculty members who continue to inspire me to always aim for greatness. These relationships have become invaluable sources of support and guidance, giving me insights into my strengths and the areas in which I need more growth. By trying so many things I also discovered what I truly love — like writing and creative projects — and what didn’t resonate with me.
Despite this, while saying yes to every opportunity has expanded my horizons, it has also left me extremely overwhelmed at times. There came a point where the excitement I once felt turned into exhaustion. I didn’t want to acknowledge it because I didn’t want to give anything up, but the fact of the matter was — I was stretched too thin.
I found myself falling behind on assignments, having to pull all-nighters just to be able to submit on time. I was sacrificing sleep, eating, and any semblance of free time that I had, all because I couldn’t say no. The endless cycle of commitments left me drained, and I began to dread the things I once looked forward to.
Eventually, I realized I couldn’t keep going like this. I reached the point where I knew I had to learn the value of saying no. No to last-minute makeup clients, no to the endless volunteer opportunities, no to some of the constant student group events.
At first, it felt counterintuitive. Wasn’t university about seizing any and every opportunity that came your way? From family to social media to school itself, it has always been drilled that it’s important to have an active student life so that your resumé can be stellar. Wasn’t doing everything the key to that?
As I stepped back and reassessed my priorities, I found a sense of clarity. It wasn’t about the quantity but more so the quality of my efforts.
What was the point of doing everything if I wasn’t bringing my best self forward? After that realization, before I undertook any new opportunity, I started to ask myself whether or not it aligned with my goals and values. If it didn’t, I would decline, knowing it wasn’t the right option for me (at least in this phase of my life).
Saying no didn’t mean shutting myself off from growth — it meant focusing my energy on the things that I’m genuinely passionate about. I also learned to trust my instincts. The more I practiced saying no, the more I felt in control of my own time and decisions.
Now, I strive to balance yes with no. Saying yes is a powerful tool for self-edification, but saying no is equally important for protecting your peace. University is a time to explore, but your well-being should always come first.
My journey has taught me that true success is not about what you do but about doing what matters most to you.