Dear Sister: Personal Space & The Importance Of Saying No

In this episode of Dear Sister, I sit down with Izza and Sanya to talk about something we all struggle with: personal boundaries. Saying no, needing space, and why we feel guilty about it. It is a conversation full of small moments that many Desi women will feel deep in their bones.

What is a personal boundary anyway?

When I asked the girls what comes to mind when they hear the phrase personal boundary, their answers were so different. Izza told me, “I really take time to open up. I just cannot vibe with someone who pushes too fast.” For her, that space to warm up slowly is sacred. Sanya, on the other hand, immediately thought of the casual remarks people make about others. “If someone comments on anybody’s skin color, weight, or hair, dude just don’t. It is so irritating.” Both are boundaries, just from different angles. That is the thing about personal space: it is deeply personal. One person’s normal is another person’s violation.

The small things that cross the line

We started talking about the tiny, everyday moments where our boundaries are nibbled away. The classic Desi dinner table experience: you say you are full and an auntie keeps insisting. The zabardasti, the forcing, to take one more roti. “They keep convincing you to do something, and that is considered normal in our culture,” Sanya said. I get it. We have all been taught that offering repeatedly is polite, but nobody talks about the person on the receiving end who feels her polite no being ignored. It is a small thing, but it adds up. It teaches you that your no is not final.

And then we moved to babies. I shared the story of taking my son Raphael to a shop when he was four months old. A complete stranger came up, said he was cute, and kissed him. I was devastated. “I was like, you just kissed my child, you don’t even know me.” I knew then that if he got sick, I would never forgive myself. The same goes for forcing kids to hug relatives when they are clearly uncomfortable. If my son is cranky or not in the mood to socialize, I do not make him. He is small, but this is his way of setting a boundary. As mothers, we have to protect that. It is how we teach consent from the very beginning.

When aunties don’t get the memo

There is a certain breed of aunty that appears in every shared space: the queue cutter. Izza told us about waiting in line at a hospital and an aunty tried to push ahead, acting like her time was more precious. I feel my blood boil just thinking about it. Everyone has a life. Everyone has somewhere to be. But somehow, some people believe their urgency overrides the basic queue.

Then there is the physical boundary invasion at events. Sanya described a class ceremony where a girl she barely knew put her hand on her shoulder for a photo. “I had no idea who this person was, and it was so uncomfortable.” A hand on the shoulder might seem harmless to some, but if you are not a touchy person, it feels like an intrusion. It is that simple. Nobody gets to decide for you what is physical comfort.

Saying no without explaining yourself

We spent a long time on the power of no. In friendships, in families, in relationships, no is a complete sentence. Sanya recalled a time when a male friend went in for a hug and her other friend said no, and the guy kept insisting, “Come on, what’s the big deal?” That pressure is so wrong. If someone says no to a hug, a handshake, a high five, you stop. You don’t question it. I have learned to ask before hugging now, even with close friends. “Can I give you a hug?” It takes two seconds and it respects their autonomy in that moment.

Izza took it deeper. She linked all these forced interactions to the bigger picture of consent. “This is what eventually translates into people not understanding the boundaries of consent in sexual relationships. No means no, you cannot touch them.” If we train children that their no will be overridden because it embarrasses an elder or upsets a friend, we are setting them up for a lifetime struggle. They learn that pleasing others is more important than listening to their own gut.

The weight of being a public figure

As the conversation shifted towards my own life, I admitted something vulnerable. Being an influencer means a lot of people feel they have access to you at all times. I have had strangers approach me for photos when I am at a hospital with my child, and I freeze. Not because I don’t appreciate the support, but because I am afraid. “If I say no, people will assume I am arrogant. There will be backlash on social media.” That fear is real. I shared that over time, I have grown a thicker skin, but it is not as simple as ignoring.

“I have come a long way, but I cannot deny that I carry those wounds.” The unfair comments, the assumptions about my life, they sink in. People see you taking a trip after a crisis and accuse you of not caring, as if you must stop living to prove your empathy. Yet those same critics do not stop their own lives. The double standard stings. And then there is the pressure to speak on every political and social issue. I told the girls that I have worked hard on grounding myself, and I have reached a place where I am not rushing to push my opinion on everything. My words influence people, and I do not always know enough. “I could be wrong. And if I am not sure, I would rather stay quiet than put an uninformed opinion out there.” That, to me, is a boundary too. Protecting my mental space from the noise of always having to have a stance.

Learning to hold my opinions lightly

Sanya agreed. She said something that stuck with me: “Most things are not black and white. They have a lot of layers.” It is so easy to get sucked into online echo chambers where your opinion becomes rigid. But as soon as I feel that happening, I try to read the counter argument. Not to change my mind instantly, but to stay aware that there is always more I don’t know. Humility is a boundary too. It allows you to say, “I don’t have to prove anything right now.”

This does not mean avoiding all opinions. Some things are clear, like domestic abuse is wrong. But on so many evolving topics, taking a step back is the wisest, kindest thing you can do for yourself and your community.

Checking ourselves first

Before we wrapped, Izza said something crucial: “It is important to check yourself. It is easy to feel when someone else crosses your boundary, but are you the one being toxic?” We all mess up. We all push when we should not. Growth is catching yourself in that moment and choosing to respect the other person, even if it feels a little awkward. If we want a culture where boundaries are honored, we have to be the ones modeling it first.

This whole conversation reminded me how much the small things matter. The forced roti, the unasked kiss on a baby’s cheek, the hug that wasn’t welcomed, the unwanted comment on someone’s skin. These are not trivial. They are the building blocks of how we learn to either respect ourselves and others, or dismiss our own discomfort as unimportant. I hope this episode gives you a little more permission to say no, with love, and to honor that no in the people around you.