You’ve probably heard the saying «no is a complete sentence.» For Justine Musk, that wasn’t just a self-help mantra — it was the defining trait she noticed in her college-sweetheart-turned husband, Elon Musk.
Long before he became the richest man in the world, she was by his side, raising five children with him and watching up close as he carved his path with relentless work and a refusal to be pulled off course. Years later, in a 2014 TEDx talk, she put that observation into words:
«I was married to a man who became extremely successful,» she said. «And as I watched him rise, I noticed two things: he worked very hard—much harder than your average bear—and he said no a lot. He said no to people who wanted his time and attention and energy. He said no in a way that protected his resources so that he could channel them toward his own goals.»
That insight became central to her message. Behind every no, she argued, is «a deeper yes to whatever it is that you do want. No is like a bright line that, when used properly, marks off where you end and others begin.»
Justine calls that deeper yes «the Deep Yes»—an unfiltered sense of self-worth, direction, and authority. It’s what allows a person to live as «the hero of your own unfolding epic.»
Justine calls that deeper yes «the Deep Yes»—an unfiltered sense of self-worth, direction, and authority. It’s what allows a person to live as «the hero of your own unfolding epic.»
But she admitted she lost hers along the way. Growing up, she was told she was «too much»—too competitive, too bookish, too ambitious. She learned to play herself down. Even in her marriage, she confessed that after a car accident, her first thought wasn’t relief that no one was hurt but, «My husband is going to kill me because I wrecked the car.»
The moment forced her to recognize how much she had silenced her own Deep Yes by putting other voices—especially external validation—above her own.
It wasn’t just
It wasn’t just work ethic that fueled his success—it was that ability to say no. And in observing that, Justine realized something crucial: when you lose your Deep Yes, you also lose your «bright no.»
«How can you say no to protect what you want,» she asked, «if you don’t even know what you want?»
For years, Justine felt cast in what she called a «supporting role»—the wife, the mother, the secondary figure in someone else’s epic. But she came to see how precarious that position is: divorce happens, kids grow up, men die younger. «The odds are good that any woman is going to spend a significant period of her life alone,» she warned. And if you haven’t built your own story, you’re left stranded in someone else’s.