Here’s why saying yes to everyone is the fastest way to lose yourself.

If you’ve ever walked off pool deck or out of a studio, wondering why a single piece of feedback hit you harder than the compliment that came before it, you’re not alone. Every instructor, whether you teach circuit, HIIT, yoga, Pilates, Les Mills, or aqua, has faced the invisible tug-of-war between wanting to please and wanting to stay true to themselves.

On the surface, saying “yes” looks generous. It feels cooperative, even professional. But under the weight of class prep, showing up for a permanent class, and a dozen different expectations, constant yes slowly erodes the most valuable tool you have, your identity.

When “Yes” Becomes a Reflex

People-pleasing isn’t a character flaw; it’s a protective strategy. Psychologists describe it as a form of self-silencing, where we suppress personal needs to maintain acceptance (Jack & Dill, 1992). For instructors, that might sound like:

• Saying yes to extra classes when you’re already exhausted.
• Accepting playlist requests that don’t suit your format.
• Modifying your style so every participant feels catered to, even if it means your energy, flow, or professionalism takes the hit.

Research consistently shows that chronic people-pleasing behaviours are associated with anxiety, burnout, and reduced self-esteem (Antony & Swinson, 2009). As Brené Brown (2010) put it, “Daring to set boundaries is about having the courage to love ourselves, even when we risk disappointing others.”

Boundaries are not barriers; they are bridges, structures that keep relationships safe and balanced. And for instructors, that balance begins with clarity.

The Myth of the Universal Class

Many instructors pride themselves on being “for everyone.” It sounds inclusive, but teaching for everyone often results in connecting with no one.

Marketing psychology and experience show that clarity creates trust. When you define who your class is for, you give participants the freedom to decide if they belong there. The same principle applies in education: specificity strengthens engagement. Research on teacher identity shows that authenticity and clarity improve learner outcomes and reduce teacher stress (Beauchamp & Thomas, 2009).

In other words, when you teach from a strong sense of self, you create a clear, consistent experience. Participants may not all love it, but those who do will stay loyal because they can feel your confidence and conviction.

As I mentioned in one of my Aqua Mentoring membership sessions, when you try to be something to everyone, you end up being nothing to anybody. Boundaries in teaching are not about exclusion. They’re about direction.

The Science Behind Boundaries

Boundaries are a form of assertiveness, a skill psychologists define as “expressing one’s needs, rights, and opinions without violating those of others” (Speed, Goldstein, & Goldfried, 2018). Assertiveness training has been shown to reduce stress, anxiety, and depression (Alberti & Emmons, 2017).

Instructors who practice assertiveness experience better professional wellbeing, higher satisfaction, and lower burnout (Bakker & Demerouti, 2017). The reason? Boundaries conserve cognitive and emotional energy.

When you constantly adapt your style to please others, you’re engaging in what cognitive psychologists call emotional labour, the effort required to regulate emotions to meet external expectations (Hochschild, 1983). This drains working memory, increases fatigue, and ultimately compromises creativity and connection in class.

Henry Cloud and John Townsend (2017) summarised it perfectly: “Boundaries define us. They define what is me and what is not me.” Without that definition, every demand seeps into your sense of self, and your teaching becomes reactionary rather than intentional.

Why Saying “This Class May Not Be for You” Is a Kindness

For many instructors, the hardest phrase to say is also the most liberating: “This class may not be for you.”

It’s not rejection; it’s respect.

Boundaries communicate care because they keep the relationship honest. Participants deserve to know what kind of experience they’re signing up for, and you deserve the space to teach within your strengths. Research in self-determination theory suggests that autonomy and competence are core psychological needs that enhance intrinsic motivation (Deci & Ryan, 2000). When those needs are protected, both instructor and participant thrive.

Consider this: the most memorable instructors in your career were probably not the ones who agreed to every request, but the ones who stood for something clear, technique, energy, creativity, humour, or challenge. They taught on their terms, and that authenticity became magnetic.

Boundaries Don’t Push People Away, They Pull the Right People In

A clear teaching identity attracts alignment, not conflict. Participants who resonate with your style will feel seen, challenged, and supported; those who don’t will naturally seek another instructor who better suits their needs.

Research on classroom engagement echoes this principle. Students respond positively to teachers who display consistency, emotional authenticity, and professional confidence (Fried, Mansfield, & Dobozy, 2015). Those qualities build psychological safety, the sense that participants can take risks and make mistakes without fear of judgment.

Boundaries help you model that same safety. When you demonstrate that it’s okay to say no, you give your participants permission to honour their own limits too. That’s leadership.

Reflection Prompts

Take five quiet minutes after reading this and jot down a few notes:

1. Which situations make it hardest for you to say no?
2. What beliefs sit underneath those moments? (e.g., “If I say no, they’ll stop coming.”)
3. How could you communicate your boundaries with warmth rather than defensiveness?
4. What’s one sentence you could start practising today? Here are some suggestions for common scenarios.

• Before class, when someone offers “helpful” feedback or suggestions

(e.g., “Could we do more stretching today?” or “Can you make it harder this time?”)

“Thanks for sharing that! I’ve planned a session that ties in with what we’ve been focusing on lately, so let’s see how it feels, and I’ll keep your idea in mind for a future class.”

This acknowledges their input, communicates that the class already has structure, and leaves the door open without promising change.

• After class, when someone says, “I didn’t really like that workout today,” or suggests changing the format

“I appreciate you letting me know. I vary the workouts to make sure everyone gets a balance across the week, so today’s session might have felt different, that’s intentional. I hope you’ll give it another try next time.”

This reframes their dislike as a natural part of variety and subtly communicates that programming choices are deliberate and professional.

• After class, when someone says, “I didn’t like your music.”

“Thanks for the feedback, music is such a personal thing, isn’t it? I use playlists that match the workout format and licensing requirements, so they might not suit every taste, but hopefully the energy still worked for you overall.”

This is friendly and factual, showing respect for their opinion while reaffirming that music selection is purposeful and compliant.

These small language shifts retrain the nervous system to respond instead of react. Over time, your “no” becomes not a wall but a doorway to better energy, better teaching, and better relationships.

Reframing Boundaries as Professional Courage

Brené Brown (2018) famously said, “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.” When you hesitate to set boundaries, you create confusion for yourself and your participants. Clarity feels risky in the moment but builds trust in the long term.

Setting limits also protects your teaching identity, the creative and intellectual DNA that makes your classes distinct. Instructors who align their practice with their personal values experience greater fulfilment and less emotional exhaustion (Van Droogenbroeck et al., 2014).

So, if you’ve been afraid that boundaries will make you less likeable, consider this reframe: boundaries make you more reliable. They help you teach with consistency, not apology.

In Summary

Teaching is an act of generosity, but generosity without limits becomes depletion. Boundaries are the quiet discipline that keeps generosity sustainable.

When you say, “This class may not be for you,” you’re not closing a door, you’re inviting the right people in.

Your energy, creativity, and joy depend on it.

Because a confident instructor doesn’t teach to please everyone.
They teach to serve with integrity, and that’s what keeps people coming back.

You can experience this kind of intentional instruction in Virtual Workouts with Marietta, where every class is structured around purposeful movement and mindful boundaries.