There’s this unspoken rule in the creative industry, especially when you’re just starting out, that if you say no too often, you’ll disappear. The opportunities will stop coming in, people will assume you’re difficult, or worse, “ungrateful.” So you say yes. Again. And again. And again. Until one day you wake up and realise that the very thing you love doing is now making you feel ill. Literally. And all you’re left with is a pile of unpaid invoices, three deadlines, and a deep resentment you can’t quite post about.
I’ve lived that cycle. Properly. The “let’s collab” DMs that turn into full-scale campaigns with no budget. The passion projects that were meant to be fun but end up draining every drop of energy because you didn’t set clear boundaries. The big brand opportunities that sound amazing until you realise they want your ideas but not your rate. You tell yourself it’s fine because it’s “good exposure.” Until it’s not. Until you’ve been exposed so much there’s nothing left to protect. Or you've grown so exponentially but you don't have the infrastructure to support the growth.
We don’t talk enough about the emotional hangover that comes from over-collaborating. From constantly being available. From saying yes when you should’ve said “I’d love to but I don’t have capacity.” And the thing is, it doesn’t always come from a bad place. Sometimes it’s genuine excitement. You want to support your people. You love the idea. You don’t want to miss out. But when everyone’s asking for just a little bit of your time, your energy, your vision, it adds up. Especially when no one’s offering anything back.
There was a moment, not too long ago, where I was doing so many collabs at once I couldn’t even remember what I’d agreed to or what the parameters of each contract were. My calendar looked like a ‘how to’ book on quick burnout. My inbox was flooded with “quick favours” or "great opportunities" And yet despite wanting alot from me, there's always "no budget". I’d built a brand around being collaborative, around saying yes, around being the “go-to” girl. But inside I was shattered. Like, actual burnout. No sleep. No creativity. Just performing.
And it made me ask myself: who benefits when I’m overworked, underpaid, and still smiling through it? Yes the CV looks 10/10 but am I even giving every opportunity my all?
Because it’s not just about one collab. It’s about the culture of expectation. The way Gen Z creatives have been conditioned to believe that work should look like friendship, and boundaries mean you’re difficult. The way “community” is sometimes used as a cover for underpayment. Or how if you say no, people start acting like you’ve broken some kind of sacred creative code. But the truth is, protecting your craft is part of the work. Valuing your time is part of the work. Saying no is part of the work.
It took a long time to unlearn my guilt around that. To realise that I don’t owe my energy to everyone just because they ask nicely. That I can still love collaboration and say no when it doesn’t align. That I’m not “too big” for something if I ask to be paid. I’m just asking to be respected. And to be fair, the right people get that. The right collabs feel easy, generous, fair. The right people don’t guilt you for having boundaries, they honour them.
Now, when someone reaches out for a collab, I ask myself a few things:
Do I have the capacity to do this well, without sacrificing something else I care about? Is it paid or are they willing to show actual value for my time and collaboration? Is this relationship mutual, or does it feel one-sided? Will this help me grow in a way that’s meaningful, not just visible? And most importantly, do I actually want to do it?
If the answer isn’t a full yes, I don’t do it. And I don’t apologise for that anymore.
So if you’re reading this and feeling that same quiet burnout, I’m telling you now, it’s okay to pause. It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to protect your energy like it’s the most valuable thing you own. Because it is. The real ones will wait. The good collabs won’t mind. And you? You’ll still be here. Creating, growing, resting on your own terms.
That’s not selfish. That’s sustainability.