I Spent 30 Days Saying ‘Yes’ to Everything—Here’s What I Learned

I used to be a chronic “maybe later” person.

Friends would invite me out, and I’d say, “Maybe next weekend.” A coworker would suggest a project, and I’d nod, “Let me think about it.” New ideas, new foods, new people—most of it made me retreat behind my comfort zone like a turtle into its shell. I told myself I was just “low-energy” or “not that type of person,” but the truth was, I was afraid. Afraid of discomfort, of failure, of looking ridiculous.

One rainy Tuesday night, while mindlessly scrolling Instagram, I saw someone post about a 30-day challenge: Say yes to everything. At first, I rolled my eyes. It felt like another influencer stunt. But something about it lingered. Maybe I was bored. Maybe I was tired of saying “no” to life. Either way, I scribbled a sentence in my journal that night: For the next 30 days, I will say yes to everything.

I didn’t sleep much after that.


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Week 1: Awkward Starts

My first “yes” came sooner than I wanted. A friend asked if I wanted to join her for sunrise yoga the next morning. Normally, I’d laugh that off and suggest coffee instead. But I took a breath and said, “Sure.”

It was cold. I fell during tree pose. My hamstrings hated me. But afterward, standing there with the early light on our faces, I felt…alive.

That week, I said yes to after-work drinks (on a Monday!), tried raw oysters for the first time (never again), and volunteered to present at our team meeting (my voice cracked halfway through). I also helped a tourist find his way, gave money to a street musician, and accepted an invitation to a poetry slam.

I started to realize that most of my “no’s” were auto-responses—habitual shields. Not because I didn’t want to do something, but because I didn’t want to feel uncertain or vulnerable.


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Week 2: Leaving My Comfort Zone (Hard)

By the second week, people were noticing.

“Why are you so…available lately?” my coworker joked.

I told a few people about the challenge, and suddenly they wanted to “help.” One friend dared me to join a salsa dancing class. Another signed me up for open mic night at a coffee shop. Someone asked me to go rock climbing. All three terrified me.

But I showed up.

I tripped over my feet in salsa. I sang a shaky, off-key cover of a 90s ballad in front of strangers. I froze halfway up the climbing wall and almost cried. But after each thing, I felt a kind of high. Not adrenaline, but a deeper pride—proof that I could do hard, uncomfortable, messy things and still survive.

Saying “yes” didn’t make me fearless. It just made me bolder.


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Week 3: Unexpected Connections

In week three, something shifted.

I wasn’t just doing things—I was connecting. I said yes to lunch with a coworker I barely knew. We ended up talking for two hours and discovering we had nearly identical childhoods. I said yes to helping a neighbor carry groceries and ended up being invited to her family barbecue. I even said yes to an improv workshop (I almost bailed) and met a small group of people who, like me, were trying to say yes more often.

Saying yes opened doors I didn’t know existed. It made me available to life—more present, more engaged, more curious. I started leaving my phone in my pocket more. I noticed things—conversations, smells, sky colors. I felt like a participant in my life, not a spectator.


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Week 4: Learning the Balance

By the fourth week, I was exhausted—but also energized. I was living fuller days, but I also learned that saying yes didn’t mean saying yes mindlessly.

One evening, a friend wanted to go clubbing. My body begged for rest. I paused. This challenge wasn’t about saying yes to burn myself out—it was about opening up, not breaking down. So I negotiated: “Yes to hanging out tonight, but maybe something quieter?”

We went for a walk instead and had one of the most meaningful talks we’ve ever had.

I learned that intentional yeses are the key. Saying yes to the right discomfort. The right challenge. The right people. Not just every whim or dare, but to what aligns with growth, experience, connection.


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The Takeaways

When the 30 days ended, I didn’t throw a party. I didn’t make a reel about it. I just sat with my journal and wrote:

I am braver than I thought.

I’ve made more memories in 30 days than I had in the last six months.

Fear shrinks when you walk toward it.

Saying yes is a muscle. It gets stronger with use.

People respond to openness. It invites magic.


And most importantly: Saying yes doesn’t mean becoming someone else. It means becoming more of who I already am—if I give myself the chance.

Now, I don’t say yes to everything. But I pause before saying no. I ask: Am I declining because it’s wrong for me—or because I’m scared?

That small pause—that mindful moment—is what changed me.

And sometimes, that moment is all it takes to say yes to life.